


Never Let Go Again

by Kereea



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger Management, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poor Robb, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ramsay is his own warning, Reek is the original Reek, Revenge, Strategy & Tactics, War, War Counsels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Where the Lannisters turned the Boltons at the beginning, Jon came home from the Wall, and Theon was trusted to get Bran and Rickon to a bannerman still loyal to the Starks, Robb ended up caught in Winterfell alone when the Boltons took it.</p><p>Aka the “Universe where Robb was tortured instead of Theon”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Theon, I want you to take Bran and Rickon for me, okay?” Robb asked._

_“What?” Theon asked back dumbly._

_“Take…take them to White Harbor. House Manderly’s loyalty is second only to House Reed’s, and you’ll never find House Reed,” Robb said. “I need you to get them somewhere_ safe _.”_

_“Robb I…you should send them with guards or…or…”_

_“I trust you,” Robb said firmly. “Ser Rodrik’s getting a safe route mapped, you just have to follow it, okay? I…if this goes badly, we can’t all be here.”_

_“Robb-”_

_“Also, Theon, I’m sorry I yelled at you a few days ago,” Robb added. “I was stressed and…and you didn’t deserve that. I know you meant well then and I know can trust you now. Please?”_

_“…You should send a letter to Snow. In case he’s not taken his vows yet,” Theon said. “When do you need us gone?”_

_Robb threw his arms around Theon, “Thank you,_ thank you _. And I already did. You leave tomorrow, before dawn. Just you, them, and Hodor. Well...take their wolves if you think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry I have to ask you to do this.”_

_Theon hugged back, “It’ll be fine, Robb. You’ll annihilate those traitors. See you once this mess is all sorted?”_

_“Right,” Robb agreed. He kissed him, “For luck.”_

_Theon kissed him back, far more greedily, “I don’t need luck. You do.. So take it back.”_

.o.o.o.

Jon Snow had never thought he’d have to be a Stark, never thought he’d have to rally his father and brothers’ banners because the Lannisters came up with a way of knifing Robb in the back like this via the Boltons.

He also never thought Theon Greyjoy would be so bound and determined to save Robb.

Theon could have left at any time, hell, he could have betrayed Robb’s trust and taken Bran and Rickon hostage himself, taken them to Pyke. But he hadn’t and was still here, speedily shooting Bolton guards in Winterfell’s halls while breaking in with Jon.

Ramsay Snow—and if this was someone his former, truer surname was shared with it only made Jon think ‘ah, so these are the wicked bastards that gave me and the good ones such trouble’—was a beast of a man, but few men could take arrows to both knees and still stand to fight.

Theon was in a fury Jon had never seen in him before. It was something mildly terrifying to watch and made Jon wonder about all those jokes he’d made in the past about the Greyjoys being inconsequential now, about how their house lacked its old ferocity, normally using Theon himself as his proof.

“Where?” Jon demanded as Ramsay was bound in chains. He smirked slightly as he saw Maege Mormont take Roose Bolton’s head a bit further down the hall. “Your father’s not here to protect you now! _Where is Robb_?”

The dungeons were in far worse condition than they’d ever been under Ned Stark. Ghost did not seem happy, but then he’d been ill at ease ever since they’d seen Grey Wind’s skull nailed above the gates.

Theon had outright snarled at the sight. Part of Jon had wanted to back away from him when it happened. Theon had been surprising him time and again with just how fierce he got when in a rage, and _anything_ having to do with Robb’s capture angered him like nothing else.

Ramsay wasn’t moving very quickly. Likely due to his injuries, but Jon still didn’t care when Theon kicked the man in the shins and told him to hurry up.

It was like having an Ironborn-shaped attack dog, really.

Ramsay gave them the key, trying to spit in Jon’s face as he did. Theon punched him.

“Take him a few cells over,” Jon told the guards. “I’ll have his fate soon.”

The smell hit him first, Theon too if the way the archer’s hand went to his mouth and nose meant anything.

Jon’s eyes scanned the room. There was nothing much he could see…wait. In the corner. “Gods.”

“Robb!” Theon cried, but that only made Robb clamp his hands over his ears—and gods, both hands were short two fingers—and draw into the corner further.

“Oh gods.” Jon really had nothing else to say. “ _Gods_.”

“Robb,” and Theon was already on his knees in the filth, reaching out tentatively. “Robb it’s me. It’s Theon. Theon and Jon. Robb, _please…_ ”

Robb shook his head harder. His once-auburn curls were nearly snow white and Jon could see bones under any exposed skin, most of which had also been flayed at some point.

He wanted to go make Ramsay suffer for this, but he was Lord Protector of the North now. It would dishonor his father’s memory and his family name if he gave anything but a quick death after sentencing, by sword or noose.

On the other hand…he hadn’t _sentenced_ Ramsay Snow yet.

“Theon, let me try,” Jon said, dropping down beside the archer. “I need you to go watch Ramsay Snow. So he doesn’t escape. In fact, see what you can get out of him. No flaying, of course, that’s illegal.”

But just saying ‘no flaying’ left Theon a good bit of leeway and going by the savage glee in those gold eyes he’d gotten Jon’s message.

“I’ll make sure he’s properly accommodated, my lord,” Theon said.

“See, Robb? We’re going to handle Ramsay,” Jon said softly. “It’ll be all right.”

.o.o.o.

“Hello, bastard,” Theon said, smirking as he entered the room. “Keep him down,” he added to the guards.

It was still somewhat odd to be obeyed by Stark soldiers. Still, in this case he could pass it off on the fact that they likely knew what he was about to do.

“Snow sent you to take my head?” Ramsay asked. Stupid of him to call Jon that when he was a bastard himself. Especially since the Bran and the Stark bannermen had collectively decided Jon ought not to be. “Can’t do it himself like a good Stark?”

“Lord Jon Stark has yet to decide your punishment,” Theon replied. “So he’s left you in my care until he makes up his mind.”

He slammed a boot down onto Ramsay’s crotch. The bastard jerked but did not scream.

That was just fine. Theon had plenty of time to make him.

“Why do you give a fuck, then? Why not have _Lord Stark_ do this himself?”

“Why do I _give a fuck_?” Theon snarled. He saw one of the guards actually flinch at it. “ _I_ give a fuck because that is my fucking best friend in that room, you son of a whore!” He whipped his bow around, cracking it across Snow’s face. He put his boot on the bastard’s throat, pressing slightly while the butt of his bow jammed hard into Ramsay’s manhood.

“Oh, yes. You cared so much it lost you everything,” Snow chuckled.

Theon laughed, stepping off of him, “Lost? I didn’t lose _anything_ bastard. You though…well, you’re about to lose quite a bit. One of you get me a hand.”

One guard forced Ramsay’s left hand forward, flat on the floor. Theon slung his bow back over his shoulder and pulled out a dagger.

“You know, I’m not allowed to flay you,” he said conversationally. “But I think your hands could do with matching your victim’s right now, maybe even moreso.”

He took the smallest finger with one hard swing. Ramsay hissed.

“To be fair, I don’t have the time you did with Robb,” Theon admitted. “But the crime for striking a lord can often be losing the hand. I’m of the opinion you used both, so you ought to lose them both. Bit by bit since I don’t have the time to make you _really_ suffer.”

He took the next two fingers. “You know, Robb gave me this knife. For my eighteenth nameday. So in a way, he does get to contribute to this.”

Snow was trying to pull his hand back by now, but Theon didn’t let him. Actually, just cutting off all the bastard's fingers seemed too easy, now. “You know, men, they seem to have installed one of their little crosses in here. Think we might string him up once I’m done here?”

One of the guards still looked a bit scared of him, but the other smiled grimly and nodded.

Theon took the last finger and thumb quickly before nodding to the guards. As Ramsay was tied to the cross Theon made sure to grind the severed digits beneath his heel.

He drew his bow and nocked an arrow, “Think of it this way, Jon’s not likely to leave you my care for too long, you lucky bastard.”

He loosed the arrow into Ramsay’s shoulder and drew another.

.o.o.o.

Robb had been a mess. He didn’t quite seem to even know what was going on. After Jon had finally coaxed him from the corner, not to standing though since Jon had seen his feet, Robb seemed to at least accept that he was being recused. Even that hadn’t seemed to get through at first, so Jon was thankful.

“Come on,” Jon said, picking Robb up. Gods, he felt lighter than Bran. “Let’s find a maester.”

“Not Luwin.”

“What?” Jon asked.

“He killed Luwin. For trying to help me,” Robb said dully.

“I…I brought an army. We have some maesters with us.” He maneuvered out of the doorway, Ghost on his heels. “Bran and Rickon are safe, too. Theon got them to House Manderly.”

“I knew it.”

“What?” Jon asked.

Robb’s smile was crooked, likely from damage to his jaw if Jon went by the missing teeth and bruises. “I knew he would do it. Would save them for me.”

“You were right,” Jon agreed.

“He…he said Theon took them. Hostages. I called him liar,” Robb was laughing now but it was a dreadful, sad laugh. “He…he beat me every time but I _knew_.”

“You knew,” Jon agreed, finding a clean room to put Robb in.

“What’s going on?” Robb asked. “You have an army?”

“News reached me right before I’d have taken my vows,” Jon said. “Came back at once. Theon and our brothers were already almost at White Harbor by then. Ghost tracked them. They put me in charge of House Stark until Bran’s in his majority, but now you’re back and-”

“Where’s Theon?” Robb asked interrupting.

“Handling Ramsay,” Jon said.

Robb went rigid, “No. Don’t let him talk. Don’t. J-j-just kill him!”

“What?” Jon asked. His eyes widened as Robb fell onto his side and curled up in a terrified ball.

Then he saw the blood on Robb’s trousers.

Gods. No wonder Robb didn’t want Ramsay talking. “I’ll go take his head now, then. Ghost.”

His wolf moved close to Robb, who had started sobbing. Gods. _Gods_. He hadn’t seen Robb cry since they were children.

He paused at the doorway for a second, checking the location. This…this had been Theon’s room. Maybe that might help Robb feel safer once he realized where he was.

He found the cell easily by the pained cries. He fought a smile at seeing Theon treat that animal to target practice, “Enough, Theon. He’s been sentenced to death.”

“Do you want to swing the sword or just shoot the bow since one’s here?” Theon asked.

“Sword,” Jon said, drawing his. “Go see Robb. It’s your old room.”

Theon looked a bit put out—and long ago that might have made him shudder, but not now—but turned and left. Jon looked Ramsay up and down. One hand was bleeding from having had all its digits severed and he was riddled with arrows, along with the other hand which was shot through the palm.

He did not smile at it. A Stark would not smile at that, no matter how deserved. He had Ramsay forced to the ground and swung his sword upwards.

.o.o.o.

Theon all but ran to his old room.

Robb was curled up on the bed, Ghost pressed against his back. “Hey Robb?”

Robb’s head snapped up—had he been asleep? Dozing?—and he looked panicked for a moment before his eyes landed on Theon. “Th-Theon?”

“Hi,” Theon said softly. “I…I guess it was longer than we thought but…well…it’s sorted?”

It wasn’t sorted. It was nowhere near sorted. The North was maybe, _maybe_ back under Stark rule but the Seven Kingdoms were in an uproar over the succession of the Iron Throne, his dad was being an ass and invading the North and West, there were apparently dragons across the sea…but fuck it. He had Robb back.

Robb’s smile was oh-so brittle, but he nodded so Theon took that as a cue to come over.

Robb almost fell against him, “Knew I could trust you…”

“I’d never let you down,” Theon said softly. “I…not after… _never_.”

“He kept saying you did. I kept calling him a liar. Lost two fingers and some teeth from that alone,” Robb chuckled hysterically.

Theon wrapped an arm around Robb, just praying Robb would soon be back to himself. That this was just shock. He hated that he doubted it. “ _Nothing_ could have kept me from doing it. Not bloody Boltons, not my stupid father-”

It was out before he realized he’d said it and Robb’s head snapped up, “You…your father?”

“He was a bit…peeved that I didn’t bring Bran and Rickon to him. No trouble,” Theon deflected. The last thing he needed was Robb, worse, Robb like _this_ , pitying him.

“Theon.” Even tired and near-broken he could sound so stern.

“I may have been disowned,” Theon said quickly. “It’s all right. I barely remember the place anyway, why would I want to rule it?”

“You got disowned over me?” Robb asked before laying his head on his knees.

“No, no, shh,” Theon said. “It’s fine. It’s all fine. This is where I ought to be and I know it.”

“Theon, _you got disowned_. Over _me_.”

For the first time Theon noticed how small Robb’s voice was. “Robb, you’re the only person, barring an old raider from my childhood who probably doesn’t even remember me, who _ever_ gave a damn. Of _course_ I picked you.”

Robb smiled at that, but it looked far from happy. Theon listened for a moment and, satisfied no one was coming down the hall, drew Robb into his arms, “It’s going to be all right now.”

He felt Robb shake his head. “No? Why not?” He didn’t get an answer. “Robb, talk to me.”

“You…I…I’m not…”

“Not what?” Theon asked. He hand went to Robb’s back only for Robb to flinch. “Gods, are you still hurt? What am I saying, of course you are…has a maester been up yet?”

Robb shook his head.

“I’ll get one, all right?” Theon asked, pulling away.

Robb shook his head, “I…I’m tired. Later.”

“Okay,” Theon agreed, kissing Robb’s forehead. “Do you want to sleep?”

Robb nodded.

Theon let him lay down and stretched out beside him, Ghost hopping off the bed with a low huff. He reached around Robb only for his hand to brush something odd. “Have you not gotten clean clothes yet? Let me grab some, those are fil…thy…”

His eyes widened at the blood. He sat up. “Robb?”

Robb shut his eyes tightly, “I…he…Theon, I’m…”

“Jon didn’t let me torture him long enough,” Theon snarled.

“What?” Robb asked. “T-torture?”

“That bastard who had you. I only had him for, what, half an hour? That was nothing,” Theon said, already seeing red beyond the bloodstained trousers. “I should have made him _suffer_ so much more than-”

“You tortured Ramsay?”

“More like I gave him a bit of extra pain before his well-deserved death,” Theon growled. The rage that had started dwelling inside his chest when he’d heard of Winterfell’s fall was running hot again.

“…Why?”

“You have to _ask_?” Theon wondered aloud. “He _hurt you_. That’s more than enough for me! But oh, he got off easy if he…if he…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Forced me,” Robb said dully.

“Yes! Gods, did anyone else know?” Maybe there was someone else he could go after for this, anyone…

“Plenty,” Robb said, voice still small and flat. “Hard to break a man’s pride in private.”

Theon’s blood ran cold. He forced himself to appear calm. No sense in upsetting Robb. “Well he’s dead now. You…you don’t have to worry anymore, Robb. I’m here now. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Even though he already had. Gods, why hadn’t he been here?

He stroked Robb’s hair until the Stark was asleep. Then he grabbed his weapons and headed for the dungeons.

.o.o.o.

Jon had one of the old practice dummies set up. He needed to hit something.

He remembered the ride here, remembered the uneasy hope of Robb still being alive, of how he and Theon were both so excited and yet so terrified their hopes were wrong.

Remembered how he’d pointedly told some of the bannermen and especially Lady Catelyn for months that if Robb wanted the Lordship he could take it, that Jon would take nothing from him.

There was no chance of Robb being Lord in the North now. Now when so many had seen him at his weakest, and that was if he recovered at all.

It was so hard for Jon to reconcile that shuddering wreck of a man with the brother he’d seen not a year ago. Robb reacted to every touch as if it was a strike, spoke only when asked to and even then in such a small voice he could barely be heard.

It made him wonder if Robb had been so badly broken that there was too little left of the man they’d gone to save.

“My lord?”

“Yes?” Jon asked, ceasing his assault and backing away from the dummy to face a guard.

“Theon has been forcibly removed from the dungeons, my lord,” the guard said. “He…he was questioning the Bolton guards and servants and…well. They admitted they knew what was going on. What was being done to your brother. That a lot of it had been public. And then one friend of Ramsay Snow’s started talking and saying…well…he gave specifics.”

Jon nodded, ignoring the hate bubbling inside of him. It made sense for the Boltons to publicly humiliate their best prisoner, twisted as they were. It was how they showed their power.

“He…Theon that is…he lost control of himself,” the guard said. “Four of our men could barely haul him out before he killed the man barehanded.”

“Is he confined to his room? Or…whatever room he’s using, since Robb has his?”

“Yes,” the guard said. “Robb Stark’s old room.”

Jon turned back to the dummy and cleaved its head off with one final, furious swing. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a far walk, but the guards were a bit nervous about letting him in. Jon wasn’t worried. If Theon was still mad he’d have been trying to wedge the door open still. Maybe even hitting it.

Theon was on the bed, chin on his knees and his eyes red with tears.

Jon had never seen him cry. Just get a bit misty eyed joy when they’d received new that Robb might yet live.

“They fucking _knew_ ,” Theon said, cutting right to it.

“Does that shock you?” Jon asked.

“…No,” Theon admitted. “Not when you get down to it but…people saw that. Saw all that. And no one fucking questioned. That happened to Robb _in fucking public_ and…I wasn’t here.”

“And it’s a damn good thing you weren’t,” Jon said sharply. “Or Bran and Rickon might have faced similar.”

“I know, it’s just…I feel like I could have done _something_.”

“You already did something,” Jon said. “You did what Robb asked and got his little brothers to safety. You joined with me and we’ve all-but cleared the North of the Boltons and their helpers. You got Ramsay Snow to scream because I couldn’t.”

“I just…why Robb? What did he ever do?” Theon asked morosely. “He…you know him, he was always so kind and good and…why him?”

“You’re acting like this stuff has a reason,” Jon said. “It doesn’t. That’s why it’s so bad. Because we know there’s no reason to it.”

“I just wish I knew what to do to help him.”                          

“So do I,” Jon said. “But I…I have an army to lead. I have to protect the North, for all of us. I…I want you to stay with him. Will you do that?”

“You’d have to fight to make me _not_ ,” Theon said, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Listen, Theon…you’ve done a lot. For House Stark,” Jon said. “And it’s cost you a lot too.”

“I already told Robb, it cost me _nothing_ any of you need to worry over,” Theon grumbled.

“I still think you deserve reward for your services,” Jon replied. “And…I don’t have the full power of a lord, but you do deserve at least a knighthood. For what you’ve done. I think.”

“No offense, Jon, but no. I…I can’t. I don’t serve House Stark and you know it.”

“…Then for Robb? Make you his guard?”

Theon shook his head, “I’m sorry, Jon. Not from you. You…let’s face it, we’re only even getting along this well for Robb. I can’t accept it from you or Bran. And don’t go putting the idea in Robb’s head.”

Sot it was only Robb Theon would take it from. And only honestly.

“Fine, but you’re still his guard since it’s only him you’re serving,” Jon said.

“Fine,” Theon agreed, swiping at his eyes.

The next thing Jon knew, there was screaming from about a floor down.

“Robb,” they both said, taking off running.

.o.o.o.

“He just started yelling in his sleep,” one guard said. “We weren’t sure what to do-”

“You didn’t try waking him the fuck up?” Theon demanded, grabbing Robb by the shoulders as Jon angrily waved the guards out. “Robb! Robb, it’s okay!”

Robb’s eyes opened and he fell still with a shuddering breath. He’d been crying, the tears leaving tracks that glinted in the moonlight.

“It’s over,” Jon said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry,” Robb whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Theon said before glancing at Jon. Jon rolled his eyes and motioned that it was fine, so Theon gathered Robb into his arms, pulling the emaciated Stark fully into his lap. “You’re safe here. You’re with us now. Robb I’m never leaving again, I swear.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Jon added, taking Robb’s hand. “We’re going to fix things. Just get some rest.”

Robb nodded.

“Good,” Jon said, petting his brother’s hair briefly. He looked at Theon and Theon understood.

“I’ll stay with you, all right?” Theon asked gently as Jon pulled away.

“Please. Please stay,” Robb said.

“Shh. I’ll stay,” Theon said, maneuvering them both under the furs. Robb clung to him like a frightened child and Theon wanted to weep himself as he felt the bones pressing against him.


	2. Chapter 2

Robb was so still when Theon woke up that Theon briefly panicked, thinking he was dead. Thankfully there was a faint pulse when he put his fingers to Robb’s throat.

Theon sat up and sighed. He had no idea what he was doing now. He’d never really planned what he’d do after rescuing Robb.

Yesterday felt like some odd sort of dream. He remembered it perfectly but it seemed so unreal. Even with Robb right here, like that, it seemed too strange to be true.

He realized Robb was holding his breath. “You awake?”

Robb nodded.

Theon pushed the furs back and sighed upon seeing the same bloody trousers and the angry scarred skin around the edges of the thin shirt. The rage ebbed as the edges of his mind, but he was more exasperated than anything because he realized that Robb “Still haven’t seen a maester?”

Robb shook his head.

Theon reached down and ran his fingers through the brittle white curls, occasionally catching sight of a pale red strand among them. “Robb, you need to-”

“Just cuts and bruises. I don’t need a maester.”

“Yes, you _do_ need a maester,” Theon insisted. Why was Robb being stubborn about getting healed up?

“No.”

“Robb, I will carry you if you force this,” Theon warned.

“Please, Theon.”

And that did it. Robb always could get him by begging. In the past it was an appeal to his ego, acting like they were equals and always got Theon in the mood to go with Robb’s whims. Now it reminded Theon that Robb hadn’t had a say about himself in a long time.

“Well, we need to get you cleaned up at least,” Theon said. “And bandage the open wounds.”

Robb was quiet for several long moments before, “Just bring me some water, soap, and bandages. I’ll be fine.”

“Robb, talk to me,” Theon said. “Why won’t you let someone help you?”

Robb drew in on himself a bit and Theon winced. Had he been too forceful? Gods he had no idea what he was doing…

“I can’t.”

“You…can’t?” Theon asked.

“I can’t.”

“I…I don’t know what…you can’t _what_?” Theon asked.

Robb just shrugged, “I can’t.”

Theon rubbed his arm, “I…look. You look like you could use some food. I’ll…I’ll get some breakfast. Bring it up. You…you think about why not, okay? Why you can’t? Robb we…you can’t just _sit_. Something will get infected or worse.”

“Okay,” Robb said.

“Anything you want?” Theon asked, reaching for his boots.

“…Water. Bread.”

Going by how skinny Robb was, that might have been all he could stomach. “All right. Be back soon.”

He leaned forward and kissed Robb’s forehead, pulling the covers back over the Stark as he did.

.o.o.o.

“How is he?” Jon asked when Theon made it down to the great hall.

“I…he…he doesn’t want a maester,” Theon said.

“What?” Jon asked. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Theon sighed, grabbing some hunks of bread and a pitcher of water. “He…I don’t know, all right? He didn’t really explain. I said I’d grab food to give him time to come up with something.”

“He needs to see a maester,” Jon said.

“I want him to see one!” Theon protested. “He doesn’t want to. Tried to insist it’s just basic cuts and bruises and he can tend to it himself…”

“Those were not ‘basic’ injuries,” Jon hissed, grabbing some small meat cakes and a bottle of ale and following Theon.

“I know that. You know that. I think even he knows that.”

“Then just take him to a maester!”

“You do it,” Theon growled. “He begged me not to and you know I…I won’t go against him like that. It seemed to scare him.”

Damn it. Why did Theon have to cave to Robb _now_? Was the phrase ‘for their own good’ not one he understood?

“…He said Luwin died for helping him. Bad memories?” Jon guessed.

“If I knew, I’d say something,” Theon said.

“I…I’m not blaming you,” Jon said. Arguing would get them nowhere. “I’m just as worried as you are.”

“I know.” Theon hadn’t been this subdued in a while. It reminded Jon of before this whole mess started. Of how the Theon always got when Robb hadn’t been around and Theon had been left to his own devices, to subtle Northern scorn.

“We’ll help him,” Jon said softly as they reached the door. “Robb?”

Robb was playing with the hairs on the top fur aimlessly. He looked up to see Theon and Jon, nodded slightly, and went back to looking at his lap.

Theon crossed the room quickly, sitting beside Robb and offering him a roll, “Here. Eat.”

Robb took the roll and pulled a piece off before slowly starting to chew it. He seemed to be trying to keep it on the right side of his mouth.

“We…we’re going to be here for a few days,” Jon said. “Settling things. I…I don’t…if there’s anything you think I should know…”

“If you have to question someone…ask for R…for Reek. He was Ramsay’s closest…whatever they were,” Robb said. “Don’t know if you’ll get much from him but…he’ll know.”

“Did you think about what I said?” Theon asked.

“No maesters.”

Theon sighed, “Robb, _please_ …”

“Robb, you are in terrible shape. That’s the truth of it,” Jon said firmly. “You need help with that.”

Robb shook his head.

“Yes you do! Jon’s right, hell, when the fuck do I _ever_ say that?” Theon asked.

“No.”

Jon ran a hand through his hair. Why was Robb being so difficult? “Robb-”

“I said no!” Robb snapped suddenly, eyes wild. Jon resisted the urge to jerk back from him. “I don’t want…don’t want…”

“Don’t want what?” Theon asked.

“…Anyone seeing.”

Gods. This was Robb’s pride at stake then.

He had a point too. The maesters with the army, none of them were exclusively Stark men. They might say something…and it would be bad for a lord to be seen in such a state of weakness. “Then let Theon and I help. You know we won’t say anything.”

He shouldn’t have made the offer for Theon but he knew Theon would agree anyway. If it was for Robb he’d agree to almost anything, Jon felt.

“…I don’t even want you seeing,” Robb said. “Just let me-”

“No.” Robb’s pride was not enough for Jon to leave him be, not with those injuries. “Those are your choices, Robb. Either a maester we make stay quiet or Theon and I. A lot of that needs looking at, hell, we should have had it looked at yesterday.”

“Jon please-”

And it might have been swaying Theon, who even now looked like he was losing resolve about this, but not him. Theon would do what Robb wanted. But Jon was a Stark, of sterner stuff than even iron, and was here to force what Robb needed.

.o.o.o.

It had been a simple matter to get everything from a maester, citing Robb’s privacy as their reason. Jon had instructed the baths to be left alone for a few hours for them.

Theon hated the twisting feelings in his chest as Robb grew more agitated. He knew Jon was in the right here but Robb was…

No. Best focus on just the fact that they had to do this for Robb’s own good.

“It’s all right. No one else is here,” he coaxed gently, helping slide the thin shirt over Robb’s head when Robb almost got caught in it.

“You…you won’t like this,” Robb said.

Theon knew that already. He’d seen enough of what had happened to Robb for a long, long time. But he could take more, and he’d take it with no reaction. Something told him that would be best.

Jon didn’t quite manage, choking upon seeing the massive whip scars across Robb’s back.

Some looked fresh, barely-healed. Others were older. Theon could see at least four different levels of fading, so four major whippings. In addition to flaying and losing fingers and toes and getting teeth knocked out and –

He stopped himself. He was no good to Robb if he was in a snit.

“Looks like your feet need the most attention. That bit on your arm looks fresh, though,” he forced out.

“Flayed.”

“Yes we guessed that.” Jon was more rigid than usual.

Robb’s hands twitched like he wanted to clench his fists. He wouldn’t look at either of them. “Just…get it over with.”

“All right,” Theon said. “But…you need to take your trousers off. Then get in the bath. All right?”

Robb shook his head.

“Robb, please. Especially if they…to you…you need to clean down there,” Jon said.

Robb’s hands shook again and Theon hated this whole situation so much and there had to be a way to just get this _done_ and “Jon and I won’t look.”

Jon shot him an annoyed glance for it but Theon ignored him, “Until you’re in the water. We won’t, Robb.”

Robb nodded, his lips twitching in a pale imitation of a smile. “Turn around.”

Jon pointedly placed himself by the door, but like Theon he turned his back.

Theon hated that he did want to turn back anyway to try and assess any damage, but he knew that would only make things worse.

After some rustling and a faint splashing noise Robb said, “You can look.”

His arms were crossed low on his stomach, making it hard to see beneath them in the water. He was also shaking.

“Is anything down there still bleeding?” Jon asked.

“Just my feet and one shin,” Robb said. “You’ll turn around again when I have to get out?”

“Right,” Theon said. “I…do you want me to cut some of your hair off? Make it easier to clean?”

He had to ask since it meant putting a knife by Robb’s head.

“Fine. No shaving though,” Robb said.

“Good thing you’re still too young for more than a bit of fuzz,” Theon joked weakly, drawing his dagger.

“You don’t cut hair with a dagger!” Jon argued.

“Oi, you help him with whatever else,” Theon said. “I’m doing this part.”

“Idiot,” Jon muttered before taking Robb’s left hand to inspect it.

A soft chuckle escaped Robb’s lips, “You never change.”

“Not really,” Theon said, pulling the pale curls straight so he could get a more even cut. There were definitely some red strands hiding in there, looking like little threads of copper buried in dull wool.

He ended up taking most of it off, leaving Robb’s hair barely long enough to curl on itself. “Somebody pass the soap.”

.o.o.o.

Robb had been cleaned and bandaged and let back to his room—or was it Theon’s room? He was sleeping there, anyways, and he intended to go back to sleep as soon as he could.

But his thoughts wouldn’t let him.

He’d never thought he’d see either of them again. Jon at the Wall and Theon hopefully somewhere safe with Bran and Rickon or maybe, _terrifyingly_ , dead.

He’d never believed Ramsay when Ramsay said Theon had betrayed him.

But what had being loyal earned Theon? Stripped of his name, his titles, his family…and for what? For _Robb_?

Robb wanted to sob at it all. The person Theon gave all that up for wasn’t here anymore.

His father was dead. One sister was missing. The other sister was a hostage. His mother was tied up in the Riverlands, trying to get North with more troops. Her father’s troops. Or were they her brother’s now? He thought Theon had said something like that…

He shook his head. Just the idea of living daily without pain, without being raped or flayed or starved or beaten was confusing him enough.

And the world wanted to be _more_ confusing. There was a fight for the Iron Throne on. Theon’s family was apparently making trouble again. Jon was forced to lead. And Theon seemed to be commanding not only respect but fear from the soldiers.

 _Theon_ commanded fear. _Theon_ was supposedly terrifying. It just did not make sense to him at all. Theon was a joker. A fine archer and a decent swordsman with a good mind for strategy. But he’d never seemed frightening to Robb or seemed to have anyone in fear of him.

Jon said it had been like that since they’d heard of Robb’s capture. Not since Theon had been disowned, but since Robb had been confirmed in chains. That it was like something in him had snapped.

Why? What about that could have changed Theon so much?

Deep down it warmed him. It made him think that maybe Theon had been as serious about what used to be as he was. But it also made him cold.

Robb wasn’t Robb anymore. Not the same Robb he’d been. Theon had changed for someone who’d been changed as well.

He picked at the bandages around his hands. Left ring and little finger, right pointer and little. He doubted he’d ever hold a sword again.

Robb Stark was an excellent swordsman.

Robb Stark could quell his fears and stand tall. He could barely stand.

Robb Stark was the son of a lord, afforded respect. He had only pity.

Robb Stark knew where his life was going, knew what was expected of him. He had no idea what to do.

Robb Stark wasn’t here anymore.

.o.o.o.

“So, wait, are they fighting each other or the bloody Lannisters?” Theon asked after skimming a letter from Lady Catelyn after breakfast.

Jon shrugged. His guess was as good at Theon’s, “Gods only know what _Renly_ thinks he’s doing, all right? But it keeps the Lannisters from getting any more men to the Riverlands or to us if they’re fighting two instead of one.”

“But if those two were one they might actually be able to fucking win,” Theon said. “If they fight each other too then the Lannisters might take them both out! They should work together!”

“They won’t win when Tywin’s grandson’s the one with his ass on the throne,” Jon said. “Look what happened to House Stark when the thought we were too big a threat. Who’s to say a united House Baratheon wouldn’t get the same?”

“A united House Baratheon could fucking _break_ them,” Theon argued. “They’d have the Reach, the Stormlands-”

“Lannisters have the West, the Crownlands, and whoever in any other kingdom they can turn,” Jon argued. “After what the Boltons have done we can’t trust they won’t get another house to knife their lord in the back. And other lords know it.”

“So, what, we’re fucked because we can’t bloody well trust anyone?” Theon asked.

“We can trust the houses we have right now,” Jon said. “The houses who didn’t turn when no one would have blamed them. And the Riverlands, barring the Freys since they won’t just fucking let Lady Catelyn being armies north.”

“And trust my former family to be reliably troublesome,” Theon added dryly.

“There is that,” Jon said. “Damn it. I never…I didn’t learn this like you and Robb, I just picked things up from you two. What do you think?”

“…Secure the north first,” Theon said. “Join with Lady Catelyn once she makes her way here. Fuck the Freys on the way south again. That’s all I’ve got. I know it leaves Sansa and Arya to the mercy of the Lannisters but…it’s all I’ve fucking got, Jon.”

“Right,” Jon said, leaning his head back against the chair. “Right.”

“I…if you need me to do anything…since Robb’s still mostly resting…” Theo offered.

Well, there was something he needed done. And Theon was probably the best to do it, given the circumstances and need to keep this sort of thing quiet.

“I’ve got men to hang and a castle to secure,” Jon said. “You…you go find that ‘Reek’ Robb mentioned and see what he knows. Theon, I’m trusting you with this. Do _not_ lose control again, do _not_ attack him. I won’t send anyone else in there to listen to whatever that man has to say, for Robb’s sake but don’t you _dare-_ ”

“I won’t lay a hand on him, then,” Theon said. “He might still be worried, since I think he’s the ass I beat last time. But if he doesn’t talk?”

“Then we’ll discuss what you can do to make him. But we…we do this the right way,” Jon said. “Am I clear?”

Theon looked like he very much wanted to disagree but he sighed and hung his head, “Yes. We’re clear.”

“Good. Talk to me about what you find before anyone else. To get your head cleared. All right?”

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to show than none of the three of the boys are in the wrong, really. Theon and Jon are both helping in their own ways, but Theon's caving can be counterproductive and while Theon and especially Robb might not like how firm Jon's being, he kind of needs to be. Robb meanwhile is still simply adjusting to not being a prisoner and coping with the massive humiliations he's gone through.
> 
> As for the War of Five Kings there's only Four Kings (no King in the North) and due to the North not acting in the same way Renly's still about since he hasn't put together quite the Stannis-crushing alliance he had in canon and both he and Stannis are having more issues with the not-as-distracted-by-the-North Lannisters. Really the Greyjoys are just making a mess of things for everyone, as usual.


	3. Chapter 3

“Not sure why you think you’ll get anything from me. After all, last time when you tried to beat me they made you stop.”

Theon frowned. Reek was chained to the wall of the room and yet acted as if he had nothing to fear. Had someone somehow told him of Jon’s orders to do no harm yet? Or was he just so warped like Ramsay that he didn’t see much as a danger to himself? “Ramsay Snow is dead.”

Reek glared, “So I’ve heard.”

“You want to know how he died?” Theon asked. “How I made him scream?”

Reek’s glare worsened. Theon took that as a sign he was getting to him.

“First I crushed his cock under my boot. Then I cut off all the fingers on his left hand. Last I had him tied to one of his pretty little crosses and I _shot_ him like the mad pig he was.”

“Liar. Jon Stark took his head.”

“Oh, yes, because Jon is far nicer than me,” Theon said. Now he had the man’s attention. “But I had over a dozen arrows in your friend before he died, Reek. I had him screaming, _begging_ for me to stop. And now you’re all mine. So what make you think I won’t hurt you if you don’t talk?”

“Ramsay. Doesn’t. Scream.”

“Oh, but he did,” Theon said. “You thought your friend was some invincible monster, did you? No, he screamed like a child. He _cried_. Like quite a lot of little bullies he was _nothing_ when you took a sharp object to him!”

The tears had probably been involuntary and more from pain than terror, but Theon hadn’t cared then and didn’t now.

“Then the fuck do you want?” Reek growled.

“I want to know all of what he did during his stay here,” Theon said. “And you’re going to tell me.”

Reek chortled, “Right.”

“Fucking tell me.” Jon had said no hurting the jackass. He didn’t say he couldn’t make it seem like he would. So Theon drew his knife. “Or your fingers come off just like the bastard’s!”

Reek frowned, “You cut his…oh…of course. Revenge for Robb Stark, then?”

Theon was tempted to stab him right in that smug smile, orders be damned. “While we’re on the topic, what did Ramsay do? All of it?”

“You know, we wondered,” Reek said.

“You fucking know-”

“No, no, I’m getting to what you want!” Reek laughed. “But, _well_ , Ramsay had the impression that _Lord Robb_ had been fucked before. That he used to try and think of someone else when he had to take or suck Ramsay’s cock. Would that be _you_ by chance?”

Theon fought the red haze that was already clouding the edges of his vision, the dark thoughts of revenge and carnage he wanted from this man. He was under orders and he hated those orders but he would do this _right_.

“I’ll take that as a _yes,”_ Reek said, leering. “I’m not partial to having my cock sucked, mind, but Ramsay assured me he was far too good at it to be new to the practice. And he always tried to look away, like he wanted to pretend it was some other cock. Yours? Did _Lord Robb_ take it up the ass from his family’s hostage?”

Theon sighed and shook his head, forcing himself to appear uncaring, “You’re really demented, you know that? And here I thought you might know something useful. I’ll tell them they can just hang you then…”

“Oh, do. But come back before the hanging if you want to learn more!”

He grabbed a loose rock out of the floor and chucked it into the man’s face, smirking at the blood it drew, “Why? You have nothing to say.”

He glanced at the guards on his way out, “All useless vulgarities, that one. He doesn’t know a damned thing.”

He walked and walked until he was well and sure he was alone.

Then he collapsed on the floor and cried.

He didn’t know if it was true. Reek could have been trying to get a reaction from him just as he had from Reek. But Robb himself had confirmed that there had been rape, that more than Ramsay had seen. And he’d been the one to call Reek close to Ramsay…

He knew it was irrational to keep thinking it. Jon had even called him out on thinking it. But all he could think was that he _should have been here_. Should have done something, _anything_.

And gods, if what Reek said was true…if Robb had tried to deal with it by thinking him…

He punched the wall.

.o.o.o.

“What did he have to say?” Jon asked. No one had seen Theon since he’d been down to the dungeons that morning, not even Robb.

“You…don’t let me near that jackass again. I’ll gut him and feed him his own innards and make him _choke_ on them.”

“That bad?” Jon asked as Theon collapsed into the chair across the table from him, one fist clenched and shaking in anger even still.

“I…he said…there were… _Robb_ ,” Theon muttered, running a hand through his hair. His fist hit the chair’s arm with a sickeningly loud crack.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Jon said, trying to sound firm, sound commanding. “What happened to Robb?”

“Raped. Multiple times. Had to…they made him…I can’t fucking say it,” Theon said. “Why _Robb_?”

“We already suspected that. Is…is the confirmation really all that’s doing this to you?” Jon asked.

The knowledge should have made Theon angry, sure, it was making Jon mad as hell, but this much upset, this sadness…there had to be something more. Something else.

“You knew. About Robb and me. Before.”

“I was the only person Robb could really talk about it with, so yes.” And maybe that was it, that was why this was all the more painful for Theon. Because of the relationship he and Robb had.

But then Jon was his brother and he wasn’t this out of sorts. There was more. He knew it.

He was proven right as Theon kept talking.

“Reek said…and don’t say he’s just trying to get to me, I considered that already…he said that Ramsay…Ramsay noticed Robb wasn’t…focusing. On being raped. Or made to…to suck cock. Wasn’t focusing enough.”

“Gods, he didn’t just want to _rape_ my brother, he wanted Robb to fucking _pay attention_?” Jon snarled.

“R-right. But Robb wasn’t really doing it. Ramsay…Ramsay thought Robb was trying…trying to pretend it was someone else…”

The quiet in the room after Theon trailed off was deafening.

“You…you think…he meant you,” Jon said.

“And Reek guessed it might have been me, since I cared so much about it. So you see I won’t be much use in getting anything from him, not while he can hold that over me.”

Theon was looking twitchy as well as sad now, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Jon could relate.

“That’s probably true. I’ll see what I can manage, but otherwise I think we’ll get nothing from him,” Jon said. “He’ll hang soon.”

“Good. But what do we do?”

“About Robb…Theon…I think some of it might just be time,” Jon said.

They’d recaptured Winterfell just under three days ago. Robb had been a Bolton prisoner for months and months. As much as he hated it, Robb probably wasn’t even used to not being tortured yet, much less being around people who gave a damn about him.

“I suppose. Until then?”

“I want you to stay with him.” It served a double purpose. There would be someone with Robb at all times and Theon would be less likely to lash out at an inopportune moment.

“Right now?”

“Is something wrong?”

“I…I think if I so much as look Robb in the face I’m going to cry and he’s going to know and _hate_ me for finding this stuff out.”

“Theon, this isn’t about you or me or what Robb thinks of us. I know you hate having him mad at you, but you have to do things for his own good right now. Once he’s more back to himself we can change that, but we can’t while he won’t properly take care of himself.”

“Okay,” Theon said. “So just…keep him fed, wounds cleaned, and such?”

“I think you’ll know what to do. Come on, no one knows Robb like you, right?”

“Right,” Theon said.

“Good. But…for the sake of keeping things in the castle civil…I’m banning you from the dungeons.”

Theon smirked. “Good idea.”

.o.o.o.

Robb hissed as he was shaken awake. For a brief, terrifying moment he thought the last few days had just been a dream and he was still the Bolton’s prisoner.

Thankfully when his eyes opened Theon was right in his line of vision. “What?”

“Sorry to wake you, but you need to eat something. It's a bit past time for dinner and I asked and found you skipped lunch,” Theon said. He sounded a bit strained and Robb wondered why. “Come on, sit up.”

Robb did as he was told, even though he felt stiff and his wasted muscles screamed at the effort. Theon helped him a bit and Robb was more than happy to lean on him to stay upright.

Theons’s arm went around him and his hand ended up lightly resting on Robb’s hip. Theon’s other hand offered him a bowl of soup.

Robb went to take it, but he couldn’t keep his grip. Thankfully Theon never let go of the bowl, so none spilled. “Damn it.”

“Easy,” Theon said softly. “Just take the spoon, I don’t mind holding it.”

It stung his pride badly, being this helpless ever after the torture stopped. Needing someone to fucking _hold a bowl_ for him. Even the spoon shook slightly, but not enough to be a detriment. For now.

Theon was quiet while he ate and Robb could feel him watching. He paused after a few more bites, “Is…is everything all right?”

“Just glad to have you back,” Theon said, smiling. It didn’t reach his eyes, which looked as strained as his voice sounded.

Robb wasn’t back, not really, but he didn’t want to take the smile, fake or not, off Theon’s face by telling him. “Okay.”

He went back to eating, trying his best to finish it so Theon wouldn’t worry. But there was a problem, “Can you…can you not be so quiet? You’re never quiet. It’s odd.”

“Anything you want me to say?” Theon asked.

“What did you do today?” It was such a pathetic topic but Robb had spent his day dozing in bed, plagued my nightmares and daydreams that were terrible and confusing between the times of just some simple peace. A distraction would be nice.

“Dealt with some prisoners. Watched Jon hang the first batch.”

“Guess he didn’t see you. He’d asked where you were. Earlier.”

“Was walking around on the walls, stretching my legs you know,” Theon said. “He probably couldn’t see me at that angle.”

“Are there any prisoners you’re going to keep alive?”

“What, for hostages? If there are, I don’t know about them. Not really my concern, mind.”

“And…how…getting to White Harbor. When I sent you. How was that?”

“ _Long_ fucking walk,” Theon replied. “Hodor could probably run while carrying Bran for forever but I couldn’t run long with Rickon and we couldn't make a kid that small walk the whole way so...slow going. Least we didn’t have to hunt much. Shaggydog and Summer took care of it.”

Robb’s heart stung a bit at the mention of his brother’s still-living wolves. He’d felt like part of him died when Ramsay had used Grey Wind for knife-throwing practice, keeping his wolf caged to make it as cruel as could be. “And…when you got there?”

“Winterfell had already fallen. But Lord Manderly was all for fucking the Boltons even before we showed up, from what I could tell. Jon was with us by then, Ghost was following Summer and Shaggy.”

Robb smiled. Good. He’d been right to trust that house, then, just as he’d been right to trust Theon.

He shuddered slightly as Theon’s fingers ran through his hair. Theon paused. “Do you want me to not?”

“No. Go ahead,” Robb said. He just wasn’t used to being touched without it being a strike or a way of pinning him down. He’d need to get used to it again, though, and Theon was always a feely person, at least with him.

Theon put the bowl on the bedside table and continued his petting, his other arm loosely wrapping a bit higher around Robb. “Still having the nightmares?”

Robb wanted to deny it. Nightmares were for children. “Not at night.” Mostly, anyway.

At night Theon was there. It helped. Going by how Theon’s eyes widened ever so slightly, he’d taken the hint.

“Then we’ll keep doing what we do at night, I suppose,” Theon said slowly. “I…I have nothing to do tomorrow. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

Robb shook his head, “No.” Thinking of doing anything but just resting didn’t really work.

“Maybe we’ll think of something later,” Theon said, his hands moving away from Robb so he could stretch. “Jon’s still dealing with maps and arguing lords and such. Better at it than any other man born a bastard would be, really. Guess your father was right to let him hang about the castle after all.”

“My father was a wise man. He…so Joffrey really took his head, then?” The Boltons had bragged of it but Robb wasn’t sure.

“Yes. From what we can tell he discovered that Joffrey was never Robert’s son but Ser Jaime Lannister’s.”

“The Queen’s brother?”

“The same. Which means he’s got no right to the throne,” Theon said. “Hence the whole of the south being in a bit of a mess with three armies about.”

“Three? Should just be Joffrey’s and Stannis’ right?”

“Renly Baratheon decided he’d try to supersede his brother. Got everyone around here scratching our heads over it,” Theon said. “Plus my father trying to be king of…I think it’s just the Iron Islands but I have no fucking clue _what_ he thinks he’s doing not siding with any of the three.”

“Theon,” and Robb felt so guilty again, “About your father-”

“What about him? Man’s lost his mind from what I can tell—oh _gods_ Robb, don’t say you’re sorry about that again,” Theon muttered, shoulders slumping. “It was my choice, okay? I made it, I’ll have to live with it. Don’t go worrying about me.”

.o.o.o.

Theon woke up in the dead of night when Robb started thrashing, “Robb!”

He tried to just grab him, but Robb’s fingers, hooked in a claw-like position, nearly raked his eyes out when he got close. Theon quickly seized Robb’s wrists and rolled on top of the Stark. “Robb! Robb wake up! It’s over!”

Gods he hoped no one in the hall heard this…then again his room had always seemed to be rather good at keeping noise in, given how before no one ever noticed when he was fucking someone in here…

Robb’s eyes snapped open with a gasp and for an instant he tried and _tried_ to throw Theon off. Even if Theon’s grip had been a bit looser it wouldn’t have amounted to much, not with the condition Robb was in.

“It’s over,” Theon repeated, more gentle this time.

“Gods. Sorry,” Robb sighed.

“It’s all right,” Theon said. “I’m here now. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, all right?”

Robb nodded shakily.

Theon rolled, taking Robb with him so they were both on their sides with Robb safely held in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

Robb was shaking like a leaf in a gale. “I…it was…I was… _he_ …”

“He’s dead, you’re here, you’re safe,” Theon promised.

He unfurled one arm from around Robb to grab the furs and pull them up. As soon as he’d let go Robb almost rammed himself against Theon in some panicked attempt to get closer.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Theon soothed. “Just you and me here, Robb. You’re safe.”

.o.o.o.

Robb blearily opened his eyes when the bed suddenly got colder.

It was morning, and there was light peeking through the curtains. Theon had just slipped out of the bed and was heading for the chest of drawers.

Robb licked his dry lips, recalling the nightmare he’d had last night.

It had been when Ramsay had figured that Robb was thinking of someone else—of Theon, but of course Ramsay had no way of knowing that—whenever Ramsay forced him. So Ramsay had made Robb keep his eyes open and on him while he’d performed.

But it had also been the first time he’d had to suck Ramsay’s cock too, when Ramsay had assured him that if he did something stupid like try to bite Ramsay would kill the first child he found upon leaving the room. It had gotten jumbled in in the dream. But also in the dream he wasn’t doing ‘good enough’ even though he was _trying_ and Ramsay was going to kill someone and he thought it would be Theon or Jon or his father which made no sense, Ramsay’s threat was to kill a _child_ after all, but somehow he’d known-

“Robb? Are you all right?”

“Sorry. Lost in thought,” Robb lied. He must have not been too convincing as Theon frowned and made his way back to the bed only half-dressed.

“It’s all right. It’s over,” Theon said, much in the same way he had last night. He leaned close and his forehead bumped gently against Robb’s as he briefly stroked Robb’s ruined hair.

Robb hated it, hated that he needed to be comforted like a child. Hated that it genuinely _did_ make him feel better. “I’m fine now.”

Theon clearly didn’t buy that either. “Robb, you can talk to me about this.”

He couldn’t. He really couldn’t. “I…could you bring some food up? I’m hungry.”

It was probably wrong to try and trick Theon like that, especially because Robb knew damn well that he was emaciated and thus any request for food would be taken dead seriously. But he needed a moment alone to clear his head and he didn’t want Theon around for that.

Theon nodded, lacing up his shirt and quickly tugging up his boots.

As the door shut behind the Ironborn Robb collapsed back on the bed.

What was he doing? He should have been taking the help, taking it gratefully. Instead he hated it and then hated himself for hating it.

He didn’t _want_ to need the coddling, the carefulness. He just wanted to try and pretend it never happened but even _he_ was incapable of it so how could he expect it of others? Of his brother or Theon?

He should have been stronger than this. He really should have.

But he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really concerned with how to do the original Reek. He doesn't factor into the show at all (since Ramsay doesn't pretend to be him) and was dead by the time we found out he was a real person in the books. From what I can figure he and Ramsay seemed to sort of feed off each other's depravity in a lot of ways and while he was unfailing loyal to Ramsay I doubt he was at all meek like Theon as Reek was. And he fucked corpses so I can see him being fine with helping Ramsay rape people.
> 
> Robb's in that interesting stage of denial where you know you're in denial but your pride's so in the way that instead of just letting the denial go you stay in denial and just hate yourself for being there. As for Theon I'm trying to show how he's lost a bit in regards to his self control over his temper and how he's changed from the Theon we knew from canon. We'll get more of that next time.


	4. Chapter 4

The day had been uneventful. Theon found that Robb had been quite truthful about his lack of desire to do anything at all.

Theon took it as a break, a reprieve. A chance to try and sort out his own thoughts while Robb dozed. Not that it helped much. There was nothing that could make him feel better about the situation beyond the simple gladness of having Robb back at all.

Shortly after lunch, though, Robb asked him something.

“They…the guards that is…they refer to you…oddly. Why?”

“What about it’s odd, Robb?” He had Robb tucked against his side now, and had himself been dozing alongside the Stark until Robb had decided to speak for the first time since requesting breakfast.

“As if…as if _you’re_ terrifying.”

Theon chuckled ruefully. So it had gotten to where Robb had to know from him, had it? He knew Jon had already given Robb a shorter version, after all. “I have found that I possess a…very _nasty_ temper when it’s combined with my skill at grudge-holding. And you know how good I am at the latter.”

That was an understatement. He’d never before felt such glee in fighting, he’d never imagined he’d _enjoy_ killing someone how much as he did when he knew they were partially responsible for taking Robb from him. So Lannisters and Boltons, really. Mostly Boltons.

He knew that before this he wouldn’t have needed someone to regularly ban him from going near prisoners for fear he’d maim them, that he’d possess one of the highest counts of killed men in the whole of an army, or that he could ever be positively compared to other Ironborn in regards to lethality.

Deep down he’d always known he wasn’t a fighter in the way someone of salt and iron should be, only…he’d somehow _become_ one, if for reasons he was sure men like his father would never understand.

It was like being possessed in a way. He didn’t mind. It was useful, really.

“So you’re angry in battle. That doesn’t sound so terrifying.”

“It can be when it means any enemy who gets close is slaughtered brutally every single time. And the ones who don’t get close get riddled with arrows in the most painful ways I can manage.”

He knew that sometimes he went for inflicting far more pain than he needed to on the battlefield. He wasn’t proud of it, not really, it could be stupid since he could sometimes just kill them and prolonged it a bit instead, but it did provide him with some sort of satisfaction. It made him feel better when they still didn’t have Robb back.

He knew it wasn’t a good thing to be doing, truly. Part of him had feared Robb would condemn it if or when they got him back, dishonorable as it was. But seeing what had been done to Robb…well, it only made him want to act out in that way all the more. His way of saying ‘this is because you hurt him’ without actually saying it.

Robb frowned pensively, “And Jon…lets you?”

“It’s on the battlefield. A bit hard to control who does what then. And it’s not like anyone much cares what happens to enemies mid-fight.” Besides, even if Jon condemned his actions in battle he still could never take Theon away from the field. Not when he was so useful. Not when they needed every man.

He realized he’d been tensing, expecting Robb’s ire. But Robb merely looked sad.

“Why all that? All that over _me_?”

“You…I…you _know_ you’re important to me, Robb,” Theon was confused. How could Robb think he wouldn’t? That he somehow wouldn’t care for Robb after all the kindnesses Robb had given him? So, so what, maybe losing that, losing _Robb_ like that, maybe it had changed him a bit, so?

Maybe a bit too much, he’d concede.

But he’d needed to change in order to get Robb back.

On impulse he pressed a kiss to the corner of Robb’s mouth, knowing it would not be reciprocated in any way but also not minding that, “You are _so_ very important. Don’t ever think different.”

Robb was what he’d fought for and lost for and done everything for. He could never not be worth it.

Theon could easily remember dozens of time Robb had helped him when they were younger and not-so-much-younger, plenty of times when Robb had gone out of his way for him. Was it really so odd for him to so the same?

Robb leaned on him slightly and Theon wrapped his arm around him.

.o.o.o.

Jon knew it was a bad idea, especially after what Theon had told him, but he had his own questions for Reek.

“Oh, and who’s this?”

The ass was leering as if he was at a whorehouse instead of a prison cell. It was disgusting. If Ramsay had needed an assistant this would have been it, all right. “Jon Stark.”

He still was unused to using his father’s surname. But names had power and he needed that power right now, for whatever it was worth.

“Odd. Could have sworn it was Snow.”

Jon shrugged, “Not my fault Ramsay couldn’t get legitimized even without a brother to be found.”

Reek looked very put out at that, “Speaking ill of the dead is rude.”

The _gall_. As if what he’d done to Robb had been _decent_. “Not all the dead, I’d imagine. Few speak well of the Mad King, after all. So, why did _you_ do it, anyway?”

“Do what?”

“What you did with Robb?” Jon asked. “You seem very enthusiastic about telling people, so I’ve got to assume you meant it. Why?”

“Why not?”

And if _that_ was his reason Jon was really going to have to resist killing him barehanded. “Not sure I understand.”

“Well, your dear borther’s not really my type. Still breathing, after all.”

Gods, Robb had been raped by a _corpse-fucker_? Jon had to repress a shudder. He hoped no ill came of it…Robb didn’t _seem_ sick, at least…

Not that Jon would likely be able to tell an illness from the rest of Robb’s state. Damn. They’d have to involve a maester after all...

“So why do it if ‘he’s not your type?’”

Reek grinned, “When _else_ does a servant get to bring a high lord low, break his pride to _bits_? Really, you have _no_ idea how satisfying it felt, though, really, a bastard like you should get the idea of wanting to. If the rest of the servants of the world knew, you’d all be fucked so fast-”

Jon tuned him out. So this had been a pride thing all along from both ends. Robb’s pride was battered to both weaken his position and shore up Ramsay and Reek’s self-esteem. Monsters.

He faintly realized Reek was still talking and resolved to gag him before the hanging.

.o.o.o.

Robb looked out the window into the yard as Reek was led out.

“He’s going to die now,” Theon said firmly. “I promise you that.”

“Is…is he gagged?” Robb asked, squinting. Theon’s eyes were better, always had been, so he should be able to tell.

“He’s been spouting vulgarities ever since we first tried questioning him,” Theon replied nodding. “So he lost his right to last words.”

Robb could guess what Theon meant when he said “vulgarities” quite well.

He wasn’t all that interested in watching the hanging, though, so long as Reek died.

He was, however, interested in Theon’s reaction.

Theon spent a good deal of time when he was with Robb just staring at him, even when he thought Robb wasn’t looking Robb often caught those gold eyes on him.

He wasn’t sure what he saw in that gaze. Pity, longing, worry…affection? He wasn’t sure.

But Robb was quite certain that it was glee in Theon’s eyes as Reek was led up the scaffold.

Theon glanced at Robb, grinning. His hands brushed Robb’s right, which was the slightly more healed of the two.

Robb nodded letting Theon take his remaining fingers in his hands.

He’d seen Theon at executions before. Sure, he’d cracked a joke or two when he thought Jon or Robb was too somber, he’d kicked around a deserter’s head in an odd ploy for attention, but his eyes had never been so bright at the thought of someone dying.

As Theon gently toyed with his fingers it slowly dawned on Robb that maybe it was true what Theon had told him, that he too had changed. That it hadn’t been just a little lie to try and cheer him up.

His jaw almost dropped at the soft chuckle Theon gave when the rope snapped taunt. He almost went rigid as Theon leaned close and brushed their lips together.

“He’s dead,” Theon murmured as he pulled back. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. All right?”

The sweet idiot didn’t get it. Dead or alive, free or in chains, he’d never be free of what they’d done. But he could never tell Theon that. “All right.”

Theon drew him close. Robb didn’t understand why Theon felt this was necessary, but he liked it and so let him do it anyway.

“Robb?”

“What?” he asked as Theon pulled back, looking concerned.

Theon reached out and wiped his cheek. Robb realized Theon’s hand had become wet from doing so. Was he…was he crying?

“What’s wrong?” Theon asked softly.

“I…I don’t know why I’m crying. I didn’t know I was,” Robb said. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been an emotional few days,” Theon said. “It’s fine if you need to.”

He remember when his mother had left to go after Tyrion Lannister for hiring an attack on Bran, when he’d been going out of his mind trying to run this place alone. When Theon had promised that if Robb needed to be afraid or worried or anything to someone he could to Theon without fear of being exposed.

So he let himself lean against Theon and weep even though he didn’t know why he wept.

.o.o.o.

Theon wished the hanging had made him feel better. He knew it didn’t really fix anything, that it was just vengeance but…he wished it made him feel better. Even just a bit.

But when all the hanging netted him were Robb’s tears, how could he feel good at all?

Robb had cried himself to sleep and Theon carefully picked him up and took him over to the bed before going back to the window.

He felt rather empty as Reek’s body was cut down.

What good was it to kill him, kill Ramsay, kill everyone else he had if it didn’t fucking _help_? He had Robb back but he also didn’t. And he wanted to, he wanted Robb to be back to himself so badly but…

Gods he felt so selfish! Robb had been through hell and here Theon was whining about how Robb was acting. As if he didn’t have a right to be a bit broken after everything!

“Somwthing wrong?”

“Robb?” Theon asked, turning back around. “You feeling better?”

Robb shrugged, “You look like you want to murder the window.”

“Well, perhaps it has somehow displeased me.” He bit his tongue at the end of the joke, he hadn’t meant to be so flippant.

Robb smiled weakly, “Well, it’s keeping the cold out. So don’t.”

“As my lord wishes,” Theon said, relieved.

.o.o.o.

“You’re going to White Harbor once we’re done here,” Jon said when Theon entered his planning room that evening. “I want Robb to recuperate somewhere safe and some of the men need to rest. I’ll finish clearing out the North. Hopefully by then the situation down south will have changed into something we can work with and Lady Catelyn will have reached us.”

“We can work with it _now_ ,” Theon argued. “While the Lannisters have three different rebellions to worry over besides us, two of which are gaining ground!”

“And if Stannis or Renly or both see us as a threat, what _then_?” Jon asked. “And frankly that third rebellion, your father’s, is doing more damage to _us_ than the Lannisters!”

“Don’t go blaming me for it!” Theon complained. “I’m not even in the fucking house anymore!”

“I’m _not_ blaming you!” Jon snapped. “Just…just go watch Robb or make sure the guards are doing their jobs or what have you. I need to talk to the council and you’re no good for planning when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Theon challenged.

“Thinking of revenge and nothing else! You think _I_ don’t want revenge?” Jon asked. “But you need to focus on what you’re doing this for, or more exactly _who_.”

Some of the aggression bled from Theon’s frame, “I...I don’t know what to do. It’s Robb but…he sort of feels…”

“Like a stranger, I _know_. He’s been through a lot. But I can’t be there to bring him back. You can. That’s what he needs from you,” Jon said. “I’ll be sure to let you know when it’s time to fight again.”

Sometimes it felt like that was all Theon was good for, keeping an eye on Robb and fighting. Jon frowned as he realized he hadn’t issued a particular order today, “And yes, you’re _still_ banned from the dungeons.”

.o.o.o.

Theon rolled his eyes at Jon’s command before leaving. He wouldn’t go back to the cells anyway. The only one he’d have really gone after, Reek, had been hung that morning and he’d _watched_ it.

It was probably for the best. It wouldn’t have been healthy to keep listening to that rat describe what he and his master had been putting Robb through.

“Robb?” He always made sure to let Robb know when he came in. Robb sometimes got so jumpy that Theon was scared of making him die of fright by accident.

Robb briefly looked at him before turning his gaze back to the window and the falling snow.

Theon sat behind him, making sure to telegraph his motions as he wrapped his arms around Robb’s shoulders to avoid a bad startle, “We’re leaving soon.”

“Where?”

“White Harbor. Our group anyway. For the people who need rest. Jon’s going to do some mucking about for a bit to make sure the Boltons are fully eradicated first.”

“Good.”

Robb leaned back against him very slightly and Theon basked in the feeling that gave him. If this was as close as he got to Robb ever again so be it. He’d take it.

“Bran and Rickon are in White Harbor,” he added. “They…they’ll want to see you.”

“Not like this they won’t.”

“Robb, for fuck’s sake, they’re your brothers…”

“They don’t need to see this, Theon.”

Something about Robb’s voice sounded so very fragile. Like he was clinging to something, to trying to keep this quiet.

Theon couldn’t bring himself to tell Robb how much of a lost cause that was going to end up being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Jon and Theon have now reached the conclusion, albeit from different angles, about the fact that they can't keep this between the three of them forever. We got a bit more insight into how the scenario has changed Theon, both from his view and Robb's. And finally we got the plot moving a bit in that they'll be changing location soon, since the war won't let them stay holed up forever.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a few days later when they were _finally_ able to start getting ready to leave. Theon thought things had been going somewhat well, but then Jon had to go and say something.

“Robb, you’ll need to see a maester at White Harbor.”

Theon could have punched Jon. He really wanted to in fact, but, well, striking the Lord Protector of the North was not the best idea for staying around said Lord Protector’s brother. So he contained himself.

Unless Robb told him otherwise, anyway. Then he would do it in a heartbeat.

Which…Robb actually _might_ , given the look he was giving Jon. Theon had to call that sort of blatant anger real progress from how Robb had been acting.

“No,” Robb said simply.

“Robb, I’ve been thinking, and really Theon and I aren’t qualified to make calls on well over half of your injuries,” Jon said diplomatically. “We need someone who is.”

Fuck it, he had a point. Now Theon might feel really guilty if he hit him…

“You said I had a choice,” Robb said coldly.

“About the fucking _bath_ , Robb,” Jon said. “You had a choice about that. But not this.”

“Yes I do. I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. And _he’ll_ make you.”

“What?” Theon asked as both brothers turned to look at him. “Jon-”

“For fuck’s sake, Theon!” Jon said. “I don’t want Robb to _die_ because we might have missed something or let something get bad without realizing and I know you don’t either!”

“Of course I don’t want that!” Theon snarled. “How _dare_ you-”

“I’m not going to fucking die!” Robb said.

“We don’t know that!” Jon said. “We also don’t know what to do to help you get back on your feet again without leaning on one of us, which I know you hate, and we don’t know if there’s any internal injuries we’ve missed!”

He whirled on Theon again, “And _you_ need to stop fucking caving over this! I know you don’t want to hurt Robb, _I don’t want to hurt Robb either_ , but we-”

“I’m right here!” Robb yelled. “I can decide for-”

“ _Clearly_ you can’t!” Jon snapped. “And I swear if you go to White Harbor just to fucking _die_ on Bran and Rickon I will _never_ forgive you.”

“Get out,” Theon said as Robb looked as if Jon has smacked him.

“Excuse me?”

“Jon, I don’t fucking care what you think you’re doing but if you’re not out that door in a few seconds I’m going to toss you out of it,” Theon growled.

“Don’t fight. Jon just…just go…” Robb muttered. “I…I can’t…I can’t…”

Seeing him seemingly backslide like that made Theon so upset and only the plea against fighting with Jon was stopping Theon from lunging at the bastard.

“Think about it,” Jon said firmly before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

“I’m not going to die,” Robb said firmly. “He’s…I’m _not_.”

“He’s just worried. I…I worry about you too.”

“…I don’t want anyone to…to, you know…I _don’t_.”

“Robb, there’s no way we can do that forever,” Theon admitted. “I…I think that’s what he’s trying to tell you.”

“I know. I really know. I do,” Robb muttered. “I just…I don’t…didn’t want….to, you know…face it…”

Theon sat next to him on the bed. He wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but Robb was in such a state… “Robb…I…I don’t know…I _wish_ I knew what to do.”

“I just…it hurts…”

“What?” Theon asked, trying to look him over. “Where?”

“Not that hurts. _Hurts_ ,” Robb said.

“Oh,” Theon said. He supposed it would be a painful sort or realization. Robb was someone who’d had his whole life pretty much set from birth and it had all been snatched from him by the Boltons in around six months in the most painful way imaginable.

And even being rescued didn’t get it back for him. Likely nothing would. “What do you want to do?”

“What?” Robb asked incredulously.

“What do you want to do?” Theon asked. “Jon already knows it; I’ll do what you want.”

“What do you think?” Robb asked. “That I should do, I mean?”

“I…I’m not sure,” Theon said. “I…I do get worried. That’s true. But I can’t…I _won’t_ make you do anything that you hate.”

So what if he was weak regarding Robb? There were worse weaknesses to be had.

“For my whole life, I was supposed to be the next Lord of Winterfell,” Robb said, tears pooling yet again. “And now…this is one of maybe a handful of rooms that I could sit in without thinking about...well. My room, my parents’ rooms, hallways, the great hall, the yard, the stables…they were quite thorough in picking locations.”

He choked and trailed off, swiping at his eyes. Theon could barely hear him by the end, his blood was boiling so hard and fast.

And he didn’t know what to say. He knew he used to, in times like this when Robb was stressed or upset, but this was so much worse and his tongue was like lead in his mouth.

“I…I can’t tell you what to do. Don’t ask me that. But…I suppose…I’d also feel better if you saw a maester,” Theon admitted.

“I…I can’t hide this. Forever. I know that,” Robb said. “I just…I keep hoping it’ll get a bit better. To where I won’t mind so much. But maybe it won’t. Maybe we don’t have that time.”

Theon hugged him briefly, “I’m sorry.”

Robb nodded, “I know.”

.o.o.o.

“He’ll agree to see that maester now.”

Jon’s head snapped up from the maps and letters. He saw Theon’s eyes widen upon meeting his, so maybe he hadn’t done enough to hide the fact that he’d been crying.

“Gods…I’m sorry. He’s sorry too,” Theon said.

“And I’m sorry. We’re all fucking sorry, aren’t we?” Jon asked, unable to stop a bitter smile. “This…we don’t really have any good options left for this, do we?”

“You know why I can’t….why I’m bad at telling him what to do?”

“Not really. You used to be quite good at it.” Theon had told Robb what to do all the time when they were younger. It had been the only sort of power he had, even if it hadn’t been an acknowledged sort and he’d later been wary of exercising it in public.

“Because…because he hasn’t had a say in so long,” Theon said. “Even before Winterfell fell…he didn’t want to be lord yet, he didn’t want to have to try and figure out how to care for his brothers without his mother’s help, he didn’t want any of that. And I guess I just wanted to give him a say. But…maybe that wasn’t right.”

“It was right, or the intent was,” Jon said. “I don’t want to...to not give Robb his choices, but if he won’t take care of himself, and you know he hasn’t been doing that, then one of us _has_ to do something.”

“I know. And I…I shouldn’t have gotten so _angry_ like that…”

“Theon, you know as well as I do that your temper’s been a bit…unchecked recently. You haven’t been in a place where you’ve needed to check it for a long while. I get it,” Jon sighed.

Gods this was such a _mess_. He still felt horrible for snapping at Robb because like Theon he knew Robb hadn’t had a say in so fucking long…but he had to be above that for now.

He shook his head, “I’m just trying to do what I think is right. And I’m sure that’s what you’re doing as well but…well…”

“It’s not really helping,” Theon said, shrugging. “I figured that out.”

“It just…scares me. It scares me, Theon. Because I _need_ to trust you with him when you go to White Harbor,” Jon said. “I can’t be there. You have to do what needs to be done. I know you’re Robb’s man, you’ve always been his man, but right now that means occasionally being tough with him.”

“I…I think I get that,” Theon said. “It’s…it’s hard, though.”

“Gods, I know,” Jon said. “But it’s going to be hard. You don’t have to tell me that doing things right can be hard.”

“…Is there something else going on?” Theon asked.

Jon wondered when they’d reached a point between them when Theon actually felt like asking such things. They’d never really gotten along before all this.

He’d never have told him the true reason before all this, either.

“Lady Catelyn’s coming North.”

“Yes. She has been for a while now.”

“And how do you think she’ll be taking my current position?”

“…You’re fucked,” Theon said, grimacing sympathetically.

Jon struggled to not thank Theon for being blindingly obvious. “Suggestions if she comes to the army first?”

“She won’t. If you need her Tully troops she’ll send them one way and go the other way towards her sons,” Theon said. “So I’ll get to handle her first.”

“Oh, damn,” Jon said. He’d hate to think what she’d do when she found exactly what Robb had been through. Especially if Robb was still firm in his stance of not being seen... “Well, maybe she’ll be too frustrated with you to take it out on me?”

“Jon, she loves to take things out on you,” Theon said. “I lived in Winterfell for ten years for gods’ sakes, and I wasn’t blind.”

Theon was exaggerating quite a bit there but it made Jon feel better that someone seemed to feel his pain. Especially given how pretty much _everyone_ there at the time had insisted he lead with the surname Stark instead of Snow and Lady Catelyn was going to be very, very upset on that point.

“But you’re not taking anything from her children so she’ll just have to handle it,” Theon said, shurgging. “Once she’s over the initial shock I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“And since when are you the optimist?”

“Since I had to hang around you, of course. Someone has to counteract your deep gloominess, Jon. It could be terrible for the soldiers’ morale otherwise.”

.o.o.o.

Robb blearily blinked himself awake, feeling something lightly tugging on his hair. As his vision focused he could see a pair of black trousers and boots he recognized.

Had he rolled into Theon’s lap or something? “Theon?”

“Sleep well?” Theon asked.

“Apparently I managed to sleep very deeply,” Robb muttered, slowly pushing himself into a seated position. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You only slipped a few minutes ago. It’s fine,” Theon said, his hand still running through Rob’s hair.

“What are you doing?” Robb asked.

“Playing with the red bits.”

“There’s likely not many to play with,” Robb said.

“There’s enough.”

Robb fought a small shudder as Theon’s fingers dipped to run down his neck for a moment.

“Jon accepts your apology.”

“When he’s in here again I’ll tell him myself. Better that way.”

“Probably,” Theon agreed. “I…he was worried about us going to White Harbor. Since I have that bad habit of just letting you have your way.”

“And since I might not be doing what’s best…” Rob acknowledged.

“Right. So…so maybe if it has to do with your health…I want you to know I’m not doing it to coddle you or to just force you to do something. I’m probably really, genuinely worried about you if I have you…you know.”

“I…I figured, but it’s good of you to say that,” Robb said, because it was. Deep down he knew Theon and Jon were both just trying to do what was best, but when he just really didn’t even want to have to think about it…

“All right. So, you want to see a maester tomorrow?”

“Yes.” If only so he knew how to handle himself on the road.

“What about when we reach White Harbor? What about Bran and Rickon?”

Robb groaned. He really wasn’t looking forward to that, “Can’t I just…talk to them through a door or something?”

“Robb, they’ll probably worry _worse_ if you do that. Rickon can be quite imaginative, you know.”

Damn it, he was right about that. “You…you’ll warn them for me? Warn them very, very well?”

“All right,” Theon said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Most I can want, isn’t it?” Robb asked. “You and Jon are right, it…it needs to be done.”

“I wish it hadn’t gone like this,” Theon said.

“What, so the Boltons could stab us in the back in the field instead? Maybe take Winterfell after I’d gone to war and left it undefended?” Robb asked. “I…this was never going to have a happy ending, Theon.”

It hurt so fucking badly to say what Ramsay Snow had taunted him with, but it felt true. This was going to go badly for them no matter what they’d done. If the Boltons had been willing to turn so easily and quickly, well, it clearly could have happened at any time. If the North had all gone south, then for all he knew the Ironborn would have razed everything to the ground.

“You’re wrong,” Theon said. “This _will_ have a happy ending. We’ll make sure it does. Maybe not the best, happiest ending given the circumstances, but…we will win this. We’ll earn it.”

“Glad someone can be confident,” Robb said.

“I’ll prove it. Come on, get up.”

“What?” Robb asked.

“Stand up, come on. You’re not going to get to walking on your own if you don’t try, right?” Theon asked.

“Theon, I’ll-”

“I’ll catch you if you stumble, don’t worry,” Theon said. “Just a little trying, all right?”

“…All right,” Robb said.

“Want your boots?” Theon asked.

They weren’t his boots, really, they were a pair someone had found lying around that were about the right size with some stuffing filling the toes. Robb shook his head.

“All right. If the floor’s cold, don’t complain,” Theon said, grinning.

Robb slid his feet to the floor—all right, Theon was right, the stones were more than a bit cold—and slowly leaned away from his grip on the bedpost.

He swayed a bit as his knees and ankles and legs in general buckled under the weight of everything above him. Thankfully Theon seemed willing to let him regain his balance on his own.

As he steadied himself Theon nodded to the bench under the window. “Think you can make it there?”

“I’m going to try,” Robb said firmly. Being able to walk without Jon or Theon or someone else supporting him would be great.

The first step nearly threw him off balance again as his feet and their missing toes sharply ached to where he almost screamed. But he bit his lip and managed to take another.

This time his left knee tried to give and Theon reached forward and caught his arm as he stumbled from over-correcting.

“You don’t need to rush it. Slow steps,” Theon said gently as Robb pulled back.

“Right,” Robb said.

It still stung. It would have taken Theon two seconds and probably four or five strides to reach the window bench. Robb had to keep his steps smaller and slower.

But then he hadn’t walked fully under his own power in months. The last few, well, if Ramsay or Reek had felt like raping him in public, they’d needed Ramsay or a guard to half-carry him, he’d been so weak from being starved.

It felt like getting something back. And _that_ felt good.

The rest of the steps weren’t as bad as the first two, but Robb still almost collapsed when he turned to sit on the bench.

“That went better than I thought!” Theon said, grinning as he settled down next to Robb.

It had gone better than Robb had thought too. Perhaps the maester would have recommendations tomorrow so he could be walking further sooner.

He didn’t mean to get ahead of himself. But it was so tempting…

Theon swung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close, “You’ll get there, Stark. You’ll see.”

.o.o.o.

Theon hung back as the brothers bid each other farewell. Jon was heading further North, to take whatever minor Boltons held the Dreadfort and other areas, as well as trying to weaken the hold Theon’s family—former family, he corrected himself—had on the western coast.

He and Robb, meanwhile, were bound east to White Harbor along with some of the injured and some who’d simply earned a respite.

Robb was well bundled in more layers than the rest. The maester had been quite firm on that instruction, since Robb’s weakened state left him less able to keep himself warm. The man had also told Theon that if he was Robb’s guard he should share a tent with him and help him stay warm at night since Robb’s emaciation would make him very vulnerable to freezing in his sleep.

Theon very much liked that instruction. Any reason to keep Robb close was a good one, especially given Robb’s nightmares.

“Ride straight there,” Jon told him after he and Robb were done hugging. “If you’re more than a few days late without word we’ll have to assume the worst.”

“I promise, no detours,” Theon said. “Not even if we spy the most fantastic brothel in the seven kingdoms.”

Jon shook his head, “Just _be careful_.”

“We will. I won’t let anything happen,” Theon said firmly. “We’ll send a raven as soon as we’re there. Good luck.”

“You as well,” Jon said.

Theon helped Robb over to his horse, a docile mare they’d been using for carrying light supplies until now. He gave Robb a leg up and thankfully Robb didn’t swing too far in trying to get his foot into the stirrup on the other side.

After that, well, it was hours of sitting. Robb could easily handle that. And if not, well, he could ride with Theon since Theon was his guard.

He swung up onto his own horse and their group set out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of the big emotional chapter of the first part, when things came to a head between the boys since Jon knew they couldn't keep putting off making Robb see someone. Theon was finally forced to confront that fact that when it comes to Robb he's one hell of an enabler and at least in matters concerning Robb's health needs to not be. And Robb finally is coming to terms with the fact that being in denial won't help him.
> 
> And we're finally leaving Winterfell for the time being, closing the first phase of the plot and moving into the next one regarding White Harbor, Bran and Rickon, Catelyn's arrival, and Robb and Theon's relationship. Thanks for sticking with me so far and feedback is always appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

Robb’s eyes snapped open, but he just barely managed to avoid making any sound.

It was just a dream, he told himself. Just a bad dream that was over and done with like his time under the Boltons.

He settled back down on the bedroll, resisting the urge to firmly press himself against Theon’s side. He didn’t want to wake him up.

It was early morning, going by the light filtering in. Theon should get his last few minutes of sleep under the warm blankets and furs before they had to move again.

He glanced down at the arm that had been flung loosely around his waist last night. It was still there.

Without thinking, his three left fingers brushed it slightly.

Theon stirred a bit. He tugged Robb a bit closer and sighed in a happy way.

Robb swallowed. The sigh had sounded a bit like his name. Probably a good dream about _before_.

He eyed Theon’s face.

Gods the Ironborn was good looking. Theon had always been handsome, but it had never really been something Robb had thought about until now.

But it made more sense to think on it now, given how unsure he was about where they stood.

Theon seemed to be trying to act like things were the way they were before, what with stealing kisses and hugs and pets, which just made no sense. Robb knew things weren’t the way they were; he wasn’t stupid.

And Theon, houseless or not, was still nobly born and still _very_ good looking. Taking his now well-known loyalty to the North and battle prowess into account with his looks and he could be expected to marry reasonably well. Especially given the fact that he was no longer a hostage.

What did a decent fuck from before mean?

Still, he had his friend back. He should have been content with that, with being Theon’s brother as he was Jon’s. But he so wanted it to be the way it was, which was the only reason he hadn’t called Theon out on his pretending yet.

Because for now he wanted to pretend too. Pretending was better than nothing.

.o.o.o.

Theon woke to Robb re-bandaging his feet. “You sleep well?”

Robb nodded but didn’t look up, seemingly too focused on wrapping the bandages properly.

Theon smiled slightly at how Robb’s nose was scrunched. Even though it was a bit crooked now, likely from being broken more than once, it still wrinkled the same way it had when Robb had been a child and trying to focus on their book lessons while Theon hadn’t cared a bit and had been cheerfully pestering Maester Luwin.

“Are your feet healing well?” Robb had been insistent on handling some his own wounds for a few days now.

“They’re getting better. I shouldn’t need any more aid with walking in a few more weeks.”

“Well, I know that should please you,” Theon said. He knew Robb was resentful of leaning on him so often, of leaning after a few steps on his own because that was all he was strong enough for. He knew it was bruising Robb’s pride like nothing else.

Robb nodded.

“Is something wrong?” Theon asked.

“No. Just a bit tired. Slept well but…still tired,” Robb said quietly.

“Well, we’ll be done riding soon. Maybe it’s just the boredom of the road draining you,” Theon said, reaching over to comb one hand through Robb’s unruly curls.

Robb slightly leaned into his touch. Theon smiled.

“Do you want to go get breakfast?” he asked.

Robb nodded, reaching for his boots.

They dressed in silence, Theon taking time to silently assess Robb’s other wounds. The fresher whip cuts were fully closed by now. The most recently flayed portions seemed to be where they could be left in the open air so long as it wasn't the freezing cold that waited outside. The ends of his missing fingers seemed to be healing over.

“Something wrong?” Robb asked.

“Just making sure you’re healing all right.” Theon hoped he hadn’t been staring. He really didn’t want to make Robb uncomfortable and screw up what they had right now.

Robb nodded, seeming to accept it. He fumbled a bit with his shirt laces and Theon let him, having gotten a severe glare the last time he’d tried to intervene before getting permission.

This time Robb managed to get them tightened on his own, but he still had trouble with the “Knot.”

Theon nodded at the invitation and reached over, tying it for Robb.

“Thanks.” Robb sounded so frustrated.

Theon thought for a moment, “How about I give you some twine or rope or something for the ride? You could figure out how to tie knots with…well…”

“Three fingers per hand?” Robb asked dryly.

“That.” He was a fucking idiot.

Robb rubbed his arm, “Sure. That sounds…well, less boring, for one thing.”

Oh thank gods Robb wasn’t mad at him. “Great.” If Robb kept his hands inside his sleeves while trying they wouldn’t get too cold, and it would give him something to do.

He brushed his hair out of his face and Robb smiled softly, “You’re going to need to either cut that or tie it back, you know.”

“Well, maybe once you get knots down again you can tie it for me.”

It slipped out. He hadn’t meant for it to. But Robb just… _laughed_.

He hadn’t heard Robb laugh since they’d gotten him back.

Robb shook his head as the short snickers ended, “What, don’t trust anyone else near your hair?”

“Well, it _is_ one of my best features.”

“All your features are your best features, idiot,” Robb said, but he didn’t look quite so happy anymore.

“Something wrong?”

“What? No,” Robb said quickly. “I’m just getting a bit hungry. Let’s go get our food so we can break camp and leave already.”

Theon shrugged it off. Robb had plenty of reasons to be unhappy, after all. It could have just been another bad memory. “I could not agree more. I’d kill to be in a bed just one night earlier.”

“Let’s hope that despite your new reputation no one takes that seriously,” Robb sighed as they exited the tent.

Wait. Was Robb…joking with him?

Gods, Theon wanted to kiss him. Damned camps and their damned lack of privacy…

.o.o.o.

Robb frowned as his fingers fumbled over the knot again. It was mostly the lack of his right first finger that was impeding his progress. Actually, the lack of the two last fingers on his left was somewhat helping the effort, as it gave his right hand more room to maneuver around the bits the left was tying…

He’d noticed a couple hours ago that Theon had, bemused, taken his reins once it had become clear he wasn’t paying much attention to the road.

It was so very cold, mostly due to a strong wind they’d been pressing through since around midday. This made it harder to practice tying knots since his hands had to stay deep inside the sleeves of his coat.

“Let’s ride a bit more,” Theon suggested to one of the higher-ranking soldiers. “Either find some shelter or hope this gale blows itself out by dark.”

“Agreed!” the other man called as Robb and several others nodded.

They were fucked if they stopped right now. There was nothing to shield their tents from the wind, nothing to stop their fires from blowing out, and nothing to keep their horses safe.

Robb didn’t mind the cold so much, if only because it was different than the slightly warm if damp dungeons he’d been if, different from being stuck inside all the time.

Winter was coming all the faster right now. Robb faintly recalled when he was very little, memories of biting cold and white everywhere. But spring was the first he fully recalled, four years of it, then seven years of his life had been summer, three autumn.

He’d been…three or so? The last time it was winter? Four? It had to be four, didn't it, because he recalled Theon being around right before the snows started melting and Theon showed up when he was four... It had been a short one that time too, only three years, starting right after Robert’s Rebellion, or so he'd heard. Long summers made long winters. This one might go seven years…

Well, at least it wasn’t snowing to add to the small drifts on the ground.

“I think we’ll reach White Harbor late tomorrow,” Theon said, pulling his horse directly beside Robb’s to be heard over the wind.

“We’ll think of something by then, I suppose,” Robb said.

He still didn’t want a spectacle to be made of his arrival and Theon and the other well-ranked men had cowed the rest into agreeing to keep things relatively quiet.

Robb also didn’t know how they would handle Bran and Rickon. Theon had suggested that Jon had probably sent a letter to Wyman Manderly about their coming, and so his little brothers be awake no matter how late they arrived.

He hoped Theon was right and it would be okay so long as they were warned first.

.o.o.o.

“Look on the bright side, we have bear meat!” Theon teased.

Robb just shook his head at him, seemingly exasperated.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, I didn’t pick the damn cave, and we _needed_ a cave anyway with that wind,” Theon said. “Should have known it would be bad this close to the sea, really…”

Robb shook his head again, only to jerk back slightly when Theon thrust a small skewer of cooked bear under his nose.

“Better than stale bread,” he offered.

He watched Robb fumbled a bit while trying to grab the end before finally getting the idea to hold it with both hands to keep it steady.

Theon picked up his own skewer and ignored the sad pang about how Robb was holding his rather like one would hold a two-handed sword.

He knew Robb was still quite sore about the loss of his swordsmanship and likely would be for a very long time. Thankfully it seemed Robb hadn’t noticed the similarity yet.

“Who cooked this?” Robb asked after a couple bites.

“A Mormont man. He noted the irony,” Theon said.

Robb let out a short snort that Theon would accept as laughter.

The entrance had been mostly blocked, with just enough of a gap to let the smoke from the fire out. The men had then pitched their tents in the cave itself, thankful that its floor was dirt instead of rock.

Robb ate a little over half the meat on the stick before handing it to Theon. That was more than Theon had expected so he didn’t complain and finished it off himself.

Robb started shucking the extra layers he wore to ride as Theon finished his meal. “So, tomorrow?”

“If we keep making such excellent time. Thankfully we haven’t needed to carry water, what with all the snow to melt. It lets the horses travel faster.” He wiped his mouth off with the heel of his hand.

Robb nodded. Now that he was down to what he’d sleep in Theon did a brief inspection. Fingers were a bit red, toes weren’t, likely to being insulated by the many bandages, his skin was cool to the touch where he prodded but Theon was willing to bet his wasn’t much better…

He pulled back and shucked his own coat and furs before leaning closes and rubbing his hands up and down Robb’s arms. The maester had been quite insistent that he get Robb’s blood flowing properly before letting him sleep.

Robb looked a bit annoyed at it tonight so Theon leaned close and kissed his nose while running his hands over Robb’s shoulders.

Robb blinked, looking surprised.

“Couldn’t resist,” Theon said, smirking.

“Oh. Thanks,” Robb said. His eyes were a bit distant.

“Something wrong?” Theon asked.

“Just…White Harbor. I’m nervous about seeing my brothers again,” Robb confessed as he scooted back to give Theon better access to his legs.

“It’ll probably work out better than you think,” Theon said. “Don’t let your imagination run away with this, Robb. You’ll make yourself sick from worry.”

“And we both know how worried you’ll be if I’m sick,” Robb drawled.

“Exactly,” Theon said, giving Robb’s hips a slightly squeeze before letting him go. “Come on, sooner we go to bed, sooner we can wake up and get somewhere with actual beds!”

.o.o.o.

_Jon Snow was hugging him._

_It took Theon until long after Jon had let go to scoop Bran and Rickon up again to finish properly processing the idea._

_“Thank you,” Jon said again, letting Rickon bury himself in the fur on Jon’s cloak._

_“They didn’t deserve to be in the middle of a siege,” Theon replied. “Besides, Robb would never have kept his head on straight with…well. You know. As long as we kept south while going east we weren’t going to run into the Boltons.”_

_Jon nodded, setting Bran back on his bed and, after a few failed attempts, prying Rickon from his torso. He nodded at the door and Theon followed him out. “So, you’ve heard the news?”_

_“Gods, yes. I…_ why _kill him?” Theon asked, pushing his hair back absently. “Everyone and their mother knows the charges couldn’t be true, he was_ Ned Stark _.”_

_“No. not about my father,” Jon said. “About Winterfell.”_

_Theon’s blood ran cold. “They…then Robb’s not dead, is he?”_

_“No, oddly enough, there’s no word as to that. But Winterfell has fallen,” Jon said. “So…you can see why I’m a bit emotional about you getting Bran and Rickon out.”_

_“Of course, of course,” Theon said. “What do you need me to do?”_

_“What?” Jon asked._

_“Well we’re going after the Boltons, aren’t we? Bran’s already demanded Lord Manderly call the banners here and_ no _it wasn’t my idea,” Theon said. Bran knew what one a lord did in these situations just fine on his own. “They were floating the idea of putting you in charge of the fighting if you reached us. So what do you need me to do?”_

_“You’ve done plenty. You don’t serve house Stark, Theon. You don’t need to-”_

_“They fucking went after my best friend!” Theon snapped. “Like hell I don’t need to!”_

_“I…could you write a letter to your father, perhaps? Maybe the North can offer…why are you laughing?” Jon asked._

_“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Theon asked. “I was disowned as soon as my father realized I didn’t bring Bran and Rickon to him. So when I ask what you need me to do, I really do mean just_ me. _”_

.o.o.o.

White Harbor was as inviting-looking as it had been when Theon, Bran, Rickon, Hodor, and the wolves had arrived last time. But last time they’d run into a band of Manderly lookouts, keeping an eye out for Boltons, and had been escorted in with some ruckus in the streets ensuing when Bran and Rickon were recognized as Ned Stark’s boys.

This time they were their own group and they were trying to be quiet. Robb had the hood of his cloak pulled up to fully hide his identity. To everyone but the highest-ranked in the city, they were merely some soldiers who needed a rest or healing after a hard fight at Winterfell.

New Castle was likewise inviting, with the doors thrown wide as soon as their identities as Stark soldiers were confirmed.

Theon dismounted quickly but hung by Robb’s horse to make sure he didn’t stumble. Sure enough Robb landed too hard and his knees gave way, forcing Theon to grab him.

“Theon, Lord Manderly wishes to see you and your friend there.”

Theon and Robb turned to see Ser Marlon Manderly, commander of his cousin Wyman’s garrison.

“Yes, certainly,” Theon said quickly, taking Robb’s shoulder. “Are Bran and Rickon awake?”

“Of course,” Ser Marlon replied. “Do you wish to see them directly after the meeting?”

“No, no…I’d like to give them some…give them an idea of who they’ll be meeting,” Theon hedged.

Ser Marlon looked like he wanted to say something, but Robb shook his head at him and he was silent.

“Anyone other than Lord Manderly going to be there?”

“Alsayne Mormont has her mother’s representative. As soon as the west is safer Lady Mormont says she will be able to send more than the few she’s given so far.”

“Those few have done excellently,” Theon said. “Any others?”

“Torrhen Karstark on behalf of his father and older brother. He has details on how they will join up with Lord Jon to attack the Dreadfort from both sides.”

“Details might be a bit lost on me, as they should likely go to Jon,” Theon said.

“Eddard Karstark was sent ahead in the other direction to meet him,” Marlon said, opening the door. “Lord Robb Stark and Theon, my lords and lady.”

Theon felt Robb tense under his hand. “My lords, my lady. Robb’s still a bit injured from his stay with the Boltons, but I assure you he’ll be fine to take part.”

Robb shakily lowered his hood. Alsayne Mormont looked like she wanted to weep before quickly masking it. Torrhen’s jaw locked as if he was trying to keep it from dropping.

Lord Manderly, however, pushed himself up from his chair in order to fall to his knees, “My lord.”

Theon smiled at the show of fealty, even as Marlon had to head over to help his overweight lord get back up again. He and Robb took the two empty seats at the table.

“You live,” Torrhen said, clearly grasping for something to say.

“Yes,” Robb said. “However, I think that is the last time you’ll be bowing to me, Lord Manderly. I will in all likelihood cede to Bran.”

While the other three protested, Theon could see that they generally agreed with the idea. They’d likely agree more once little tidbits of what happened to Robb began circling. Theon could only hope the rapes stayed out of the inevitable rumors.

“Right,” he said, cutting thing off before they got too melodramatic. “Where do we stand?”

“Well, House Mormont is still trying to retake the west from the Ironborn,” Alsayne said. “We’re having a bit of trouble with it, but once we have House Stark shall have all our forces at its disposal.”

“Theon, do you have any suggestions for that?” Wyman asked.

Theon shook his head, “No more than what I told you last time: take advantage of the lack of discipline within their ranks and try to cut them off from the sea.”

“Both of which work when we can do it,” Alsayne agreed. “My mother smashed some of Victarion’s troops apart recently. Some ran _screaming_ from her.”

“Clearly they need more like this one,” Wyman laughed, gesturing at Theon. “Lord Jon often has to stop you from running _at_ the enemy, is that not so?”

Theon couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at that. “To be fair, none of my enemies are so fierce as a Mormont lady.”

“As soon as we break past the Boltons the Karstarks will rally with Lord Jon,” Torrhen said. “Should only take until the collapse of the Dreadfort, perhaps sooner.”

“And you, Lord Manderly?” Robb asked.

“Ships, my lord,” Wyman said. “So we may strike King’s Landing ourselves if needed, damn the south and their mess. Or defend ourselves should the Lannisters try the opposite.”

“Good,” Robb said. “Thank you for your loyalty, all of you.”

This provoked another round of somewhat dramatic proclamations that Theon did not much care for. No, his mind instead moved to what he’d have to do as soon as he’d settled Robb in a room.

Explain things to Bran and Rickon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was important since it shows where Robb's starting to mess up due to his low self-esteem: he thinks Theon's just faking things while Theon thinks they're getting back to normal. We also get a flashback showing what started Theon and Jon's current getting-along and see some non-Stark, non-Bolton lords (or their representatives) at last. We also get the vague season timetable with Robb telling us I'm going by closer to the show's ages (by Robb's math he was about eighteen when this mess started).
> 
> Now, for those interested in how the Northern campaign and rest of the war are going, it's gone like this:
> 
> The North: Houses Umber and Manderly are the ones who have contributed the bulk of the forces to Jon's army thus far. House Karstark gave slightly less, but also are the ones who helped Jon get south safely. They have mostly been messing with the Boltons' Northern holdings of their own accord and will now team up with Jon to attack the Dreadfort from both sides. Mormonts are likewise more tied up, in their case with the Ironborn. Lesser houses are with whichever of the three groups they're closest to with only a few siding with the Boltons, who were mostly supported by Lannister troops that got North be sneaking through western ports. 
> 
> The South: Tywin is trying to push North through the Riverlands but so far the the Tully troops are blocking him. Stannis, Renly, and Tywin are at a bit of a stalemate for now, since Renly is not bolstered by the Northern alliance and both he and Stannis are trying not to smash each other apart too much until the Lannisters fall since they see the lions as the worse enemy. Catelyn was fighting with her brother and uncle but is now going North with a band that includes the Blackfish. Edumure has agreed not to go on the offensive while they're gone since he's not very good at it and might accidentally give Tywin an opening.


	7. Chapter 7

“I’ll break it gently,” Theon said. “But I will be honest with them on what to expect.”

Robb nodded, too drained from the meeting with the lords to do much else.

Theon smiled softly, kissed his brow, and left.

Robb made sure to listen until Theon was well down the hallway before standing up and shakily crossing to the mirror. He hadn’t had a mirror back at Winterfell, the one in Theon’s old room had been either pilfered or broken and removed.

Seven hells did he look awful.

His nose was crooked from being broken, his jaw was set ever so slightly off from the same. He managed to force the latter into a normal position, but he knew it would slide back the second he stopped thinking about it.

His hair made him look like an old man. He could barely see any of the “red bits” Theon often claimed to be playing with.

He slid his shirt off.

While he didn’t quite look like a skeleton with skin stretched over it, he felt he was close enough. The scars all made it all the worse.

He remembered that morning on the road. Because Theon was handsome, always had been.

Robb used to be.

After pulling his shirt on he closed his eyes, remembering a time from before.

He and Then had just finished…having sex? That was what he was _sure_ he remembered but he didn’t ache or feel filthy.

No, he’d _never_ ached or felt filthy around Theon, not before. It was strange thinking of fucking that way, but it was true…

He slowly wrapped his arms around himself.

They’d been in Theon’s room, that time. Left to their own devices that night. They…yes, they’d had sex but it was somehow _wonderful_ , not terrible. And then they’d been lying about on top of the furs, too warm to get beneath them.

“Beautiful,” Theon had murmured almost drunkenly, the back of his hand brushing Robb’s cheek. “My beautiful boy…”

Robb remembered wanting to protest that he’d been sixteen and that was no _boy_ , that he was a man and no one called a man _beautiful_ like a maid. But he hadn’t because he hadn’t the energy and was too caught up in the attention from the Ironborn, from the lust in those gold eyes...

He sank to his knees at the memory of the look in Theon’s eyes. It was a hungry look but also a satisfied one, and a possessive one too. There was more to it as well and it had been wonderful and warm and…and Theon didn’t look at him like that anymore. He always looked sad or worried. Maybe a bit possessive now and then but it was a ‘keep this man safe’ possessive and not a ‘want this man’ possessive, Robb felt.

It shouldn’t have stung but it did. Deep down he wanted Theon to _want_ him again, for things to be like they were even if he knew he didn’t want to be fucked which made the whole wanting to be wanted silly.

But maybe silly wishes were all he had now. He knew as well as Jon and Theon that he’d never be a lord again, never command respect after what so many of his bannermen had figured out from his injuries, what so many people at Winterfell had _seen_ done to him.

Maybe he should ask Jon to go to the Wall once he was healthier. The irony was not lost on him.

Bracing a hand on the chest of drawers he pulled himself upright. He would meet his brothers standing. If that was all the strength he had it was still what he ought to give them.

.o.o.o.

“Theon!”

Rickon was so energetic that Theon could only conclude that he’d been told of their arrival when it had happened and had been barely containing himself ever since. The little boy shot across the room like a child-sized arrow and smashed into his legs.

“Good to see you,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Bran, Hodor, you too.”

“Hodor,” the giant said pleasantly, cleaning some wooden toys Wyman must have had provided for the brothers.

“So you took Winterfell back?” Bran asked. “And found Robb?”

“Robb?” Rickon echoed eagerly, squeezing Theon’s legs.

“Yes, yes, but boys, you need to listen to me for a moment her. Robb was…hurt. By the Boltons. And he looks it,” Theon said, prying Rickon off so he could kneel to his level. “He…he doesn’t look how he used to and he doesn’t want you to… _worry_ …because of that.”

Rickon seemed to be taking what he said for what it was, but Bran was clearly seeing what was implied. Theon hoped that therefore Bran would also be able to not react too strongly.

“Come on, Shaggy! Let’s see Robb!” Rickon said grinning.

“Err, how about you hold off with the wolves?” Theon asked. “Grey Wind…he’s gone, and Robb’s still sad about it.”

Hodor went to get Bran but Theon waved him off, “It’s fine, Hodor. I’ve got him. Do what you want for the rest of the night, all right?”

“Hodor,” the man said, shrugging. Theon scooped Bran up and headed down the hall, Rickon at his heels.

“Have you been in a lot of battles? Have you been winning? Well, I guess you have if you took Winterfell back…have you been _really_ winning or only barely winning?” Rickon asked.

“Calm down,” Theon said. “And really, _really_ winning.”

“He’s excited. So am I!” Bran said, bouncing slightly in Theon’s grip. Great, even he was a bit hyper now…

“He was very happy to hear you were safe,” Theon said. When he reached right door he knocked, “Robb, it’s us.”

Thankfully there was no hesitation before the quiet, “Come in.”

Theon shifted Bran in his arms so he could get to the door handle. “Rickon, don’t run at him. He’s not quite got his strength back yet, all right?”

Robb was standing by the bed, making sure _not_ to look at the door.

“ _Robb_?”

And Rickon had started them on a bad foot with a horrified-sounding exclamation. Damn it.

“Robb!” Bran seemed to think the same as he seemingly made sure to sound much happier and more enthusiastic. “You’re alive!”

“Yes, I’m alive,’ Robb said quietly.

Rickon _still_ wasn’t helping, standing and gaping at his oldest brother. Theon wondered if maybe he should set Bran down on the bed by Robb and then take Rickon outside until he could be civil. After all, Rickon was all of five, this wasn’t his fault…wait. Was he six by now? He might have turned six… Well it didn’t matter either way. He was just too young to try and censor himself.

Bran elbowed Theon, “Take me over there, then!”

“Of course, _my lord_ ,” Theon said, rolling his eyes even though Bran had a point in wanting to actually be allowed closer to his brother.

He walked over to the bed, sitting close to but not right next to Robb. Rickon trailed behind him, and Theon really hated to think how the little boy’s hiding behind him was affecting Robb, but then none of them likely knew what to do. Robb sat as well, keeping a foot or so between them.

Bran leaned forward, almost out of Theon’s lap altogether, to wrap his arms around Robb, “I’m so glad you’re back!”

“Glad to see you too.” Robb went to pat Bran’s arm, but stopped dead when Rickon loudly gasped.

“Your hand!” the littlest Stark cried.

“I…it’s fine, Rickon,” Robb said tightly as Bran shook his head at his little brother. “It’s fine.”

Theon could feel the atmosphere darkening by the second. “So, Rickon, what have you been doing while Jon and I were gone?”

“Oh, I’ve been with Bran,” Rickon said. “And he’s been in the library most days. _It’s so boring_ , Robb!”

“Is not,” Bran said quietly, sliding back into Theon’s grip for the sake of his balance.

“Rickon, how about you find a servant and ask them to send us some food? Robb and I haven’t had dinner yet,” Theon said.

Rickon nodded and hurried to the door.

“He doesn’t mean to be so insensitive,” Bran said quietly. “He’s just…well, you were gone so long. He doesn’t know what to do about it.’

“Have you two been taken care of?” Robb asked. “I know it must have been hard, no me, no Jon, no Theon…no Mother…”

“Rickon’s kind of sore on the last point but…we’ve been fine. _Really_ ,” Bran said. “I…I mean it’s hard. Trying to be lord when I’m just a kid. But with Jon in the field I don’t have to do much.”

“I’ll teach you, then,” Robb said. “What they taught me. All right?”

“Why?” Bran asked. “You’re back!”

“Bran…I’m going to have to cede to you,” Robb said. “Too many people know too many specifics about what happened for me to ever lead our house effectively again. I know that sounds…completely _silly_ but it’s how the world works. When they know ways a lord was…very, very hurt, it gives the lord a position of weakness.”

“And I’m much better? If Theon let go of me right now I’d be on the floor, unable to get up!” Bran argued.

Theon frowned; that was enough of that.

“All right, all right, House Stark’s not in a favorable position regarding its lord, fine, but this is far too deep a conversation for two brothers who haven’t seen each other in months,” Theon scolded.

When he was younger he used to wish for Asha during the times when Winterfell had been more prison than home. They’d likely have fallen back to bickering eventually but he knew that foremost they’d have just been glad to see each other. Robb and Bran arguing so soon was ridiculous.

Robb nodded, “Hash it out later?”

“Sure,” Bran said. “Are…are you all right? You look tired…”

“I tire easily right now,” Robb said. “And I had to meet with the banners before seeing you and Rickon.”

Robb had looked quite drained after the meeting, when Theon thought about it.

Rickon came back in, hopping onto the bed with a grin, “She’ll bring us honeycakes!”

“Well, that’s not so much a dinner…” Theon teased.

It felt like when they were younger, when Catelyn had been with her daughters and Ned Stark was trying to be kind and take a moment just for Jon, leaving Theon and Robb in charge of Robb’s little brothers.

Theon didn’t know if that made it sad or great.

.o.o.o.

Robb’s head fell to his knees as Theon took Bran and Rickon out.

He was so tired. First the meeting and then his brothers…he felt like he could sleep for days.

He hoped he didn’t. Someone might panic and think he was dead.

Bran still didn’t seem to understand how a crippled lord was still better than one who’d been publicly tortured. Perhaps they’d both simply have to leave Jon as Lord Protector until Rickon could do it…Jon probably wouldn’t like it but it might be the best option.

He waited for Theon to come back. He knew he would, there was a second bed in the room after all, probably something having to do with Theon being assigned as his guard.

He should try letting Theon sleep in it, instead of with him. He’d need to let Theon go eventually. Starting now would be advisable.

The thing was…he didn’t want to. Keeping Theon close was the only choice he’d really been able to make for himself and it was one he wanted to keep making. Even if it was a bad idea.

“So that could have been—are you all right?” Theon asked, looking worried.

“Just tired,” Robb said, flashing a small smile to hopefully get Theon to relax.

It seemed to work as Theon smiled back and crossed the room to hug him.

It felt good whenever he ended up in Theon’s arms. It felt safe. Robb hated that he _needed_ that feeling so much right now, but he also loved whenever he got it.

“I don’t know about you,” Theon said, stretching a bit as he pulled back. “But I am _dying_ to sleep in a real bed again.”

“It would be better than just a blanket between us and the ground,” Robb said, hoping Theon took the hint from his use of “us”.

He swore to himself he wouldn’t keep indulging in this, that this was just until they were settled in, then he’d sit Theon down and politely ask him to stop pretending because Robb could take it, really.

Okay, no, no he probably wouldn’t do well with it but nothing at all might still be better in its own way than knowing Theon was just being nice.

Just…Theon was very _good_ at acting like things were the way they used to be. He was gentler with Robb sure, but…maybe…

No. He had to just be pretending. And Robb would let it go for now because maybe…maybe right now he wasn’t strong enough to take it not being like that. But he’d have to confront Theon eventually.

Just not now.

.o.o.o.

Theon woke very well rested, a testament to the greatness of sleeping in beds. Robb seemed to be doing fine as well, curled against Theon’s side and perfectly still save for soft breaths.

Theon gently ran a hand through Robb’s hair. The coppery bits stood out nicely in the soft morning light and Theon hoped as Robb’s health improved maybe the auburn would return to the rest of it.

He slid out of bed, intent of figuring out when breakfast was, what Bran and Rickon did with their days, and how he and Robb could fit into that.

Someone knocked.

Robb stirred a bit and Theon hurried over to the door, glad he’d slept in his clothes. “Yes?”

“News from Lady Catelyn Stark,” the servant said. “She’s passed House Reed’s lands by now. Only a few of the house came with her, the rest are staying to guard the Neck.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell Robb and Bran,” Theon said.

When he’d shut the door and turned around Robb was sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.

It was rather strangely adorable.

“Who was that?” Robb asked.

“Messenger. Had a message,” Theon said. “Just progress on how soon your mother will be here.”

House Reed being trusted to guard the neck and not contribute any soldiers likely meant Catelyn was being as wary of the Freys as he felt she should be when they’d refused her use of the Crossing.

Robb nodded, “Theon, can you help me with something?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Can you…I need to shave. But I’m pretty sure my hands won’t be so steady,” Robb said.

Theon nodded. Robb’s whiskers were looking a bit unruly, now that he thought about it. Unlike his hair they hadn’t gone quite so white and they just looked a bit odd on his pale, hollow cheeks.

He dug around in the chest of drawers. Manderly had a habit of stocking guest rooms well and—aha! There was a razor and some shaving soap.

“Come here, we can do it now,” Theon said, tugging a chair in front of the mirror with his foot.

Robb shook and stumbled and almost slipped when he went to steady himself against the back of the chair, but he made the trek on his own. Taking the seat, he nodded at Theon to just get it over with.

Theon moved as slowly as he could, worried Robb might get nervous if he did otherwise. While that might make them a bit late for breakfast, this did rather need doing.

He glanced at the mirror when wiping off the blade. His own whiskers seemed fine, but then his facial hair didn’t grow very quickly and he’d shaved at Winterfell.

Now that he thought about it, his father and uncle Victarion—former father and former uncle, whatever—also didn’t really have beards. Maybe it ran in the blood, his growing so slowly.

It was nice, though, having Robb trust him like this. “I think it does look better without the whiskers.”

Robb made a noise that sounded approving, though for rather obvious reasons he didn’t nod.

Theon wiped the knife off again while tilting Robb’s head back, “So, do you have any ideas after this? Beyond breakfast? We could see what Bran and Rickon do, perhaps?”

Robb shrugged, but then he pursed his lips. When Theon pulled the knife away for a moment he said, “I…want to look at the maps.”

“The maps?” Theon asked, checking Robb over to make sure he hadn’t missed any.

“The maps,” Robb said. “I…I might have been in an impossible situation at Winterfell, but Father and Maester Luwin always said I was generally good with strategy. I’d like to see where we stand, generally speaking.”

Theon nodded, “That sounds good. I only know the basics right now myself, so it would be good for me, too.”

He’d been worried Robb was just going to hole up in his room again. Maybe things were finally improving.

“Any more news?” Robb asked.

“Your mother has just passed House Reed,” Theon said. “The crannogmen have sent some along with her but most are guarding the neck in case the Freys turn. Which, you know, if you ask me they fucking have _already_ since they wouldn’t let your mother through even with an order from Lord Tully.”

“I knew they took their positions as Lords of the Crossing seriously but that’s ridiculous,” Robb scoffed.

“I think they may have the gall to try and act like they were just being neutral, too,” Theon muttered. Oh what he’d give to be left alone in a room with a few of them, they’d change their tunes so fast…

“Theon?” He felt Robb’s hand on his chin. “Come back.”

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “They just…why do they have to make this harder? Do they think it’s fucking funny? Are they hoping for a Lannister reward?”

“If they are they’ll be in for a sorry surprise when Mother and Jon march south to get Sansa and Arya back.”

Theon nodded. Robb was being reasonable, he should go with that. Should try being reasonable himself but deep down something inside him was screaming for the Freys to just fucking _die_.

“Thank you,” Robb said, rubbing his chin gingerly as Theon put the razor away. “Do you…do you think there will be many people eating now?”

Well, a crowd at mealtime would bit a bit much for Robb, even with some progress. “I could get Bran and Rickon and have food sent up. We could hear more of what they’ve been doing and you could keep your privacy.”

“That sounds good. Please,” Robb said, nodding.

Theon smiled as he left. Yes, things were starting to work themselves out pretty well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a bit of angst from Robb's end in this chapter. We see some other effects his imprisonment and torture had one him, both physically and mentally. Though I did have fun letting it slip Theon's mind entirely that Robb hadn't seen himself in a mirror before now. We also see Robb and Theon's differing viewpoints, where Robb is sure this is all pretending and pity while Theon has no idea he thinks that and thinks things are improving. Don't worry, I won't drag that out too long.


	8. Chapter 8

A few days after Theon had helped him shave, he and Robb had followed Bran and Rickon to where Bran and Rickon apparently spent much of their time: New Castle’s library. Robb was just glad it was something he could actually do with them.

“So Bran spends a lot of time reading and I have to spend time _learning_ to read,” Rickon said, his nose wrinkling just at the thought of it.

“What have you been reading?” Robb asked Bran.

“Old legends. Other stuff,” Bran said, shrugging. “Hodor’s been having fun getting books off the top shelves that no one’s touched in years.”

Robb wasn’t entirely sure ‘fun’ was the right term, but then Hodor did seem amused at how dusty some of the books were, so there was that.

“Lots of these are practically falling apart,” Theon said. “Hope none of the pages are out of order…”

“One on the Old Gods had that,” Bran said. “Good thing was most pages ended mid-sentence so I could just match them up. The maester in charge of the library didn’t mind once I explained what I was doing.”

“This one…how do you even read this?” Theon asked, squinting at one with very tiny writing. “Hell, how did anyone write this?”

“I don’t know how they wrote it, but the maesters have a glass device that makes things look bigger, like a spyglass but…not,” Bran said.

Bran seemed to be enjoying himself, which was good. And Rickon did need to learn…

“If you need help, I don’t mind,” Robb said, ruffling Rickon’s hair.

“Don’t want help. Don’t wanna do it at all,” Rickon sulked.

Rickon seemed less uneasy around him lately than he’d first been. Robb was grateful for that at least.

“Gah, this is making my head spin,” Theon huffed, shutting the book with the absurdly-small print and shoving it back towards Bran.

“Then don’t read it,” Robb chuckled.

“I’m hungry,” Rickon announced. “Let’s go eat!”

Robb looked at Theon. He wasn’t very hungry and by the confused look the Ironborn was giving Rickon, neither was Theon. He glanced outside—the sun looked fairly high, so maybe it was nearing noon and he was still unused to regular meals and Theon still too used to army rations to notice. “You and Bran should go eat, then.”

“But aren’t you hungry? You look like you’d be hungry,” Rickon said.

“Well…no. When you get…like this…it takes a while until you can eat as much as you used to,” Robb explained carefully.

“Go help Bran and Hodor put back the books,” Theon said quickly. “Robb, you look tired, anyway. You should lie down.”

Robb silently thanked Theon as Rickon took the explanation and did as he was told. Theon gave Robb a hand up and led him out of the library.

By the end of the hall Robb was leaning on Theon to walk and whenever there were stairs it felt like Theon was half-carrying him up them.

By the time they reached his room the shame of it all had thoroughly eradicated the good mood Robb was in. “Thanks.”

“No trouble,” Theon said, his hand briefly squeezing Robb’s shoulder as he opened the door. “Do you want to just lie down or do you need to talk?”

“I don’t need to talk. You should go do something for yourself.” He went and sat down on the bed to take off his boots, surprised when Theon followed him.

“What do you mean?” Theon looked quite perplexed. “Like, what, go embarrass all the Manderly archers or something?”

“If that’s what you want to do.” Theon had been spending all his time around Robb, he deserved some to himself for once.

“I’m fine,” Theon said. “Probably need to restring my bow anyway, after the road…”

Robb wanted to groan. Couldn’t Theon take the hint that Robb didn’t need him wasting his own time by watching Robb like this? “Just, you know. If you wanted to do something else.”

Theon flashed him a grin so like before that it was _agonizing_ , “But where else would I rather be?”

He leaned in to steal a kiss and suddenly Robb couldn’t take it anymore. He had to put a stop to this pity. Right now.

.o.o.o.

Theon inwardly winced as Robb’s reaction to being kissed was to lean back so he could frown and ask, “Why do you always do that?”

“I’m sorry, do you not want me to?” Robb hadn’t really given any indication that he’d minded before…and maybe Theon had been doing it more often since leaving Winterfell but, well, he’d thought that was getting closer to normal between them…

“You…you kiss me, and hold me, and pet me…gentler than before but still like before. But it’s _not_ like it was before, Theon,” Robb said. “I know it’s not like before. You don’t need to pretend.”

“Robb, you know what it looks like when I’m pretending things are okay. That is _not_ what I’m doing and you know it,” Theon said, catching Robb’s chin when his friend tried to turn away. “Robb, please.”

“I…I just…just _stop_ pretending you _want_ me, all right?”

He…he thought _what_? And Robb looked so torn-up over the idea, too… How could he even think that at all?

“I’m not pretending. Again, _you_ of all people should know when I’m pretending,” Theon said. “Robb, why wouldn’t I-”

“ _Look at me_!” Robb hissed with a venom Theon hadn’t heard in his voice since, well, since Robb had scolded him after saving Bran. It was a shock to hear it again.

“I am,” Theon said, staring into those angry blue eyes. “I…you think I _care_ about that? Robb-”

“I know what you look like when you fucking _want_ someone, Theon,” Robb said.

“Well maybe you really don’t!” Theon argued. “Robb, I-”

“Shut up! I _know_ what you look like when you want to fuck someone, all right?” Robb said, turning away. “I…I’ve gotten that look enough myself, and I’ve been dragged into enough whorehouses with you to see it directed elsewhere. You…I…”

“You honestly think I don’t want to fuck you?” Theon asked, mystified. Of _course_ he wanted to fuck Robb. He _always_ wanted to fuck Robb! He’d felt _really_ fucking guilty any time he’d wanted to fuck Robb recently, of course, and ignored the feeling as best he could, but he still _did_.

“Well it…it’s not like you’ve tried to…” Robb muttered.

“I didn’t try _because_ …because you…with what _happened_ …” Theon fumbled. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ do that to Robb. It’d be a betrayal of unimaginable levels. He would never hurt him like that, not for anything.

Robb just laughed bitterly, “So it’s that I’m damaged goods, is that it?”

“I didn’t want to _upset_ you, you fucking idiot!” Theon snarled, spinning Robb around and hauling him close by the collar. How could Robb even think that? “I didn’t want to remind you, or hurt you, or anything like _that_ you…you…you _idiot_.”

Robb was very still and Theon was probably frightening him right now by being so forceful and harsh-voiced but he couldn’t stop, “I didn’t save your brothers or get kicked out my house or join Jon’s war because I liked _fucking_ you. I fucking _like you_. No, no, that’s not it, you idiot, I’m _in love with you_ you moronic-”

“You love me?”

Robb sounded so stunned. The blood thundering in Theon’s ears died down at once.

“ _Yes_ ,” Theon reiterated, resting his forehead against Robb’s. “I…you thought I _didn’t_?”

Robb shrugged, “I didn’t know. I hoped but…you can be hard to read. To guess.”

He could give Robb that. He supposed he’d never shown his feelings much outside their shared nights, after all, it might have been used against him like any other feelings might have been. Even so…

“Well I do. Love you. I…probably should have said so sooner.”

“I could have said something too.”

Theon shifted so Robb was in his lap. He felt better having Robb in his arms like this. It was a confirmation of sorts that Robb was here and safe. “Well we’ve said it now. And I am _still_ in love with you, you idiot.”

“Theon, Theon just… _look_ at me,” Robb said, crumpling against him. “How can you…I _know_ you…”

“Then you should know it wasn’t your good looks that got me,” Theon said, kissing snow-white curls. “It was you, Robb. I love _you_.”

“I…you don’t know,” Robb said. “All of what they did.”

“Then tell me,” Theon said. He had a sinking feeling he knew more than Robb thought thanks to his stints in the dungeons, his little _chat_ with Reek.

Robb shook his head, “I can’t.”

“I won’t think less of you.” He never could.

“You say that now,” Robb cautioned.

Theon kissed him, trying to prove everything he felt with the gesture, “Robb, I don’t care what they did to you. I _don’t care_ about it, I don’t care who did it or how often. I care that you’re here now with me. That is all I need. All right?”

.o.o.o.

Theon’s arms were shaking slightly as he held him, as if he was scared Robb would vanish the second his grip loosened.

Robb shut his eyes. How could he say it? Say he was fucked by Bolton’s bastard in a room full of people, that the bastard’s foul friend took him next while he was forced to suck the bastard’s cock? That he’d been stripped naked and left bound in the guard shack to be assaulted more than once? That he’d tried getting through it by trying to think of Theon instead of Ramsay or Reek until they’d caught on and hadn’t let him? That he’d long since stopped associating sex with anything other than _pain_ and _humiliation_ …

That even though he could vaguely remember good sex with Theon, he could not remember _how_ or _why_ it had been good at all since sex was only agony, leaving what had once been sweet memories as only confusing.

How could Theon ever be fine with that? How could he be fine with the fact that, “I’m not sure I ever want sex again.”

Theon kissed him. It was so wonderful but so _hungry_ that it made Robb’s heart ache because fine, maybe Theon did want him like that, like Robb deep-down wanted to be wanted, but on the other hand Robb might never again-

“That’s fine,” Theon said hoarsely, interrupting his thoughts. “Just let me hold you, let me stay by your side, _please_.”

He’d never heard Theon sound so desperate in his life. “But you just said-”

“I will never _not_ want you,” Theon said, kissing his brow. “But I will _never_ force you.”

“Kiss me again.” He felt like such a child asking that in such a small voice. But Theon did as he was bid, covering Robb’s face with oh-so-gentle kisses.

Theon was here. Theon still wanted him, broken and ruined and all.

Robb caught Theon’s chin and leaned their foreheads together. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

Theon’s eyes widened slightly, “You-”

“Would I really have just come to you to fuck, Theon? Me?” Robb asked.

Theon smiled slowly, “I suppose not.”

He took Robb’s face in his hands and kissed him, really _kissed_ him. Robb’s hands scrabbled for something to hold, one catching in some tangled bits of Theon’s hair and the other Theon’s collar.

“I love you,” Theon repeated, lying down and pulling Robb with him. “I love you and you can _tell me_ these things, Robb.”

“You already know some of it, don’t you?” He didn’t mean it as an accusation, but frankly Theon didn’t seem too surprised by what he’s been told so far...

“Some of it is just guessing. Some is based off the bastard and his friend’s rants before they died.” Theon shrugged. “But since we couldn’t trust them I don’t know what to think. I know that they’d have been trying to get to me, so…I needed you to tell me. Before I said anything.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Robb,” Theon said. “I love you. I just…it just upsets me that it happened. But I don’t pity you.”

Robb could let himself believe it. It felt true, and Theon…Theon wouldn’t lie to him if Robb asked outright. He knew it.

Theon suddenly sat up, “Damn, door’s unlatched. One second. Anyone could walk in.”

And that would be bad, because frankly even if he wasn’t inheriting anymore…well, it would be seen as bad, at any rate, and his house didn’t need that right now. And Bran and Rickon did not need to walk in on him crying, either.

“There we go,” Theon said, falling back into place beside Robb. “Now, where were we? Right, I don’t pity you, don’t you _ever_ think that again, all right?”

Robb nodded. He was really starting to feel a bit overwhelmed here.

“Have…have you been feeling this way for a while? Thinking I was just pretending?” Theon asked nervously.

“…Yes.”

Theon kissed him again, arms winding around Robb and hauling him flush against Theon. “Don’t ever think that again, either, okay?”

Robb nodded. “O…okay. Okay.”

Theon smiled softly and Robb almost forgot to breathe at the look in those gold eyes. That was the look he remembered, the look from before. Exactly like that.

As if somehow reading his mind Theon absently brushed the side of Robb’s face with the backs of his fingers. “Good. That’s my wolf.”

Robb could feel the tears burning and they built in his eyes but he couldn’t hold them back and simply buried his face in Theon’s neck.

“Robb?” Theon sounded startled. “What’s wrong?”

“You have no idea…how much I wished you’d look at me like that again,” Robb whispered, his voice raw.

“Shh,” Theon murmured against his hair. “You know, that’s how I feel like looking at you all the time, some days.”

Robb choked out a laugh, “Flatterer.”

He felt those fingers in his hair again. That was really becoming a habit of Theon’s.

“I…” Robb began before nearly losing his voice at what he wanted to say. “There’s…more. That I need to tell you. Can it wait?”

“Until you feel ready,” Theon said softly. “I’ll still be here.”

Robb could believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We have confessions! And Robb finding out that, yes, Theon's still got the hots for him. However with what Robb's been through, that complicates things, which we'll see more of next chapter.   
> Meanwhile Bran's looking into things, since unlike canon he doesn't have the Reeds' help about his "odd dreams" and Rickon is being a kid.


	9. Chapter 9

Theon hadn’t been able to help his good mood from the last few days.

Robb loved him. _Robb loved him_.

Theon was sure his constant grinning was pissing off people as it had at Winterfell before this whole mess but he didn’t fucking _care_.

Gods he was such a _maid_. Robb loving him made him so giddy that he could probably outdo any giggling girl. Without the giggling, thank gods, he had a fearsome reputation to uphold these days after all.

Rickon was overjoyed at his recent extended good mood since it meant he had someone who seemed genuinely happy to play with, Bran seemed neutral, Hodor was Hodor, and Robb seemed fairly bemused by his actions.

“So then the _idiots_ ,” Theon said, rearranging Rickon’s toys, “tried to pull a pincer movement on us which you really don’t do when your force is _that small_ against a group _that big_ that _knows you’re there_. So what happened was Jon and I took one group and the Greatjon took the other and we _smashed_ both of the Bolton bands.”

He knocked both sets of toys over by flicking his wrists. Rickon looked absolutely enchanted while Robb looked like he was trying not to laugh at Theon’s showmanship.

Bran was reading another book and ignoring the lot of them. According to Rickon he was looking to find explanations for weird dreams about a weird crow.

Theon knew Bran had been having those odd dreams for a while now, but they’d apparently gotten more specific after he and Jon had left White Harbor. Dreams of being animals, of being Summer, or a crow with three eyes telling Bran to go North…

If that was Bran’s way of asking to go to the Wall to get out of being Lord, Theon did not find it very funny. Robb wouldn’t even tolerate Bran discussing that part around him after the first time.

“While we’re on the subject of the amazing military actions of Jon and Theon, how did you break into Winterfell, anyway?” Robb asked.

Theon grinned widely, “What, did you think the Boltons were smart enough to lock up _all_ the servants and able to cow _all_ the smallfolk? Last I checked they still loved their Starks, my lord.”

Robb kicked him lightly. “None of that, Theon.”

“Sorry, _Robb_ ,” Theon mockingly corrected. “Rickon, your big brother’s pushy.”

“Yeah, they both are,” Rickon said. “Kind of what big brothers are for.”

Theon smiled and ruffled Rickon’s hair, glad the little boy didn’t need to know how lucky he was. All Theon recalled of his brothers were jeers and fists and drunken versions of the same. Well, he sort of thought Maron might have had blue eyes…not Tully-blue like Rickon, Bran, and Robb, but a sort of sea-blue like he was pretty sure his mother’s were.

Damn it. Former mother’s. And technically Maron and Rodrik weren’t his brothers either, even if they’d been dead over ten years now… He really needed to work on remembering that. It might be diplomatically important at some point. Like if his father stopped being a dick and attacking the North.

Theon rather hoped Balon Greyjoy proved him right by dying before being smart for once.

Rickon hopped up onto his bed where Robb had been perched, watching them. “Robb, when’s Mother going to get here?”

“Probably only a week or two,” Robb said. “Last I heard her troops mostly went west to stop the Greyjoys and a smaller group’s coming here.”

Rickon got that puzzled look he always got when someone mentioned fighting Greyjoys. Theon watched in amused silence as the little boy slowly recalled that Theon no longer counted as a Greyjoy and so the sentence could make sense once more.

“How’s Jon?” Bran asked.

“Last word Lord Manderly got was that he and the Karstarks had the Dreadfort surrounded and they were cutting trees for siege weapons,” Theon said. “I…don’t much recall any lessons on the place, so I don’t know how it will go. Robb?”

“It’s one of the sturdiest forts in the North,” Robb said, tapping his chin. “Has a lot of underground chambers as well for its people to retreat to in case of a siege. It’s near a river, so there may be escape tunnels to that. So frankly anyone who bursts in may get trapped themselves or be caught unawares by people hiding underground.”

“Think Jon and Rickard Karstark know to watch out for that?” Theon asked.

“Lord Rickard should,” Robb said, scooting over a bit as Shaggydog decided to join him and Rickon on the bed. “Jon…I don’t know. But he’ll likely defer to anyone who knows more about the place regarding its defenses.”

“So if the Tullys link with the Mormonts and Jon and the Karstarks crush the Boltons…” Theon mused. “Then we might have the North safe in but a months or so.”

“It depends on how the Ironborn fall back,” Robb said. “They’ll lose the great majority of their gains, of course, but on the other hand they have enough to solidify their holds at key points. I’d bet they hang onto Deepwood Motte and probably Torrhen’s Square for a while. The good news is I think they’re stretching thin, so either they drop the raids on West, which is the more profitable venture, or they drop the North.”

“Hard to say,” Theon said. “Logic’s not something my former house is well-known for.”

“Well, maybe they’ll fall and you can get Pyke,” Rickon said, throwing his arms around Shaggydog and burying himself in the black fur.

Theon laughed. “I…don’t think it would work quite that well, but my thanks for thinking of me.”

“What are you going to do after this war?” Bran asked. “Are you going to come home with us?”

“I think so,” Theon said. He’d go where Robb went, after all. “You could probably use an archer to help shore up the meat stores before winter really sets in, after all.”

.o.o.o.

“The thing is, with Dorne and the Vale as neutral, it squeezes the available battlefields,” Robb said, moving a few pieces around on the maps. “Dorne means West and Reach are fighting each other along the west coast to get naval dominance over there while the Stormlands and Reach have to move only along their shared borders to fight since the neutrality and mountains block them southward, Vale means North and Crownlands have to take to the sea for a long stretch to reach each other. Plus it means the fights keep happening in the Riverlands even when it’s not the Lannisters going for us because apparently Renly and Stannis can’t fucking _aim_ …”

“Maybe they have bad maps,” Theon said. “I used to think the Stormlands were north of the Crownlands, myself.”

“That’s because you’re a terrible student,” Robb replied, rearranging some of the pieces on the map table. “Some days I wonder how you managed to even get here the first time.”

“Oh, well, walking east is very easy, Robb,” Theon replied. “So Renly is mostly fighting Gregor Clegane…here. And Stannis is fighting Jaime Lannister…here. And Tywin is…this looks like he’s pulled back a bit…”

“That’s what these letters say,” Theon said, flicking through some of the communications. “Lord Tully thinks he’s going to reinforce Jaime. Hopefully it’s nothing more than that.”

“Right,” Robb said, frowning. “He might be hoping to let us wear ourselves out in the North so we can’t do anything when he does sweep forward to crush us. He also might be worried about the Ironborn raids on his lands and be going to deal with that…”

“We’ve got a fucking five-sided war,” Theon muttered. “Probably a good thing Dorne and the Vale are staying out. Seven sides would get trickier still.”

Robb nodded, “We know what Tywin wants, his grandson’s arse on the throne. We know Stannis and Renly both want the throne too. So those three are going to be opposed no matter what. We are _always_ going to oppose the Lannisters, so it won’t surprise me if Jon or Wyman start getting letters from both Baratheon brothers asking for an alliance. The only true wildcard is Balon, who hates _everyone_ …”

“Which also means everyone hates him and is willing to more or less ignore all but the worst of his raids until the war is over and then can crush him. How he managed to not foresee that…idiot,” Theon muttered.

Robb took his hand, grinning. “Clearly I got the Greyjoy with the brains.”

“Asha’s perfectly smart. And you know I’m no Greyjoy anymore, _my lord_.”

“Stop that,” Robb groaned. “For gods’ sakes you barely need to do it in public, why the hell in private? And Rickon’s right, we might end up wiping out the rest of your house anyway, or someone else will, so you might be the only damn Greyjoy standing by the end of things.”

It still likely wouldn’t get Theon Pyke, since Robb doubted few would take the rule of an exile raised by another land, but it might get Theon his fucking _name_ back. He hadn’t deserved to lose his right to use his own name, just the _name_ his inheriting rights be damned, over taking two little boys somewhere safe.

Theon smiled softly, “Fine. But be careful. You can’t slip and use it in public.”

“There’s a lot we can’t do in public,” Robb scoffed. “One more won’t make things worse.”

Theon chuckled, looking back over the maps. “So we’re just waiting on the Dreadfort and the western coasts, then?”

“Even just the northern parts of the western coasts,” Robb said. “We can get the Riverlands’ coasts on the way south. The thing to be careful of is to not wear ourselves out. The fresher the army we can toss at the Lannisters, the better.”

There was a knock at the door. Theon went to get it.

Robb was surprised to see Marlon with a letter. The garrison commander was a bit high-ranked to be just running about with a message.

“Our scouts have met with your lady mother, my lord,” Marlon told him after coming forward. “She will be here in a few days."

A few days? Gods he wasn’t ready for this…

“Thank you,” he said as levelly as he could. Going by the look Theon was giving him from over Marlon’s shoulder, his nerves must have been somewhat visible anyway. “I’m sure my brothers will be very happy to have her back as well.”

“Yes, Lady Leona went to the library to tell them,” Marlon said. “You’ve been looking at the maps for a few days, my lord. Any thoughts?”

“It all comes down to when we take the Dreadfort, really,” Robb said. “And on how good the fleet is when we do.”

“We’ve been building ships as quickly as we can but…it’s not enough to face King’s Landing,” Marlon admitted sadly. “Not alone. Not yet.”

“Then we go and thin the Lannisters’ men on the battlefield first,” Theon said. “The pressure will get to them eventually.”

“Let us hope,” Marlon agreed. “My lord, Theon.”

As he showed himself out Robb sat down.

“So,” Theon said. “What do you want to do when she gets here?”

“It all comes down to how she reacts, doesn’t it?” Robb asked.

Theon came over and put a hand on his shoulder, the most he could dare with the door still wide open. “You know I’ll stand by what you choose, right?”

Robb knew that quite well, actually. “Theon, I’m feeling a little tired. Mind helping me back to my room? I need some time to think alone.”

They walked the corridors, Robb glad that it was really only the stairs he needed any serious help with, even if his legs were shaking by the time they reached his door.

“I’m really going to lie down,” he said, because he was truly tired, not merely looking for an excuse to talk with Theon privately. “Go…embarrass the Manderly archers or something. All right?”

Theon smirked, “Of course, my lord.”

Robb rolled his eyes at him and shut the door.

.o.o.o.

Robb had slept nearly until dinner, and Theon really only got him to sit up to eat a bit of soup before he sprawled out on the bed again.

“I suppose you overdid it with all the pacing and thinking in the map room,” Theon said.

And likely worrying about his mother coming, but Theon would be a fool to add that.

“I’m just…just _terrified_ of how she’ll react to…well to this,” Robb muttered, vaguely moving his hand.

“You just gestured at all of you,” Theon said. “I hardly think-”

“You know she’ll worry beyond reason, at the very least.”

“…Yes,” Theon conceded. “But you’re her son. Can you blame her?”

“Not really,” Robb said. “But I…I don’t want to be pitied. I get enough of that walking the corridors.”

Yes, and Theon wanted to smack every single person who didn’t quite seem to get that the gawking-turned-sad-looks _were not helping_ but then that wouldn’t help either, now would it?

“Well, _I_ don’t pity you,” Theon said, lying down beside Robb. “You know that, right?”

“Right.” Robb frowned. “I…I want to, no, need to tell you something.”

“All right,” Theon said.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s only natural. This is a bad spot we’re all in and-”

“No. Right now,” Robb said. “I…I don’t know what to…to do with you. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck, I’ve told you that-”

“And I’m fine with it,” Theon said, cupping Robb’s cheek. “That’s fine.”

Robb shook his head, tears pooling, “No, you…I…I don’t _remember_.”

“Remember what?” Theon asked. They were talking about remembering things now?

Robb sat up, rubbing his temples. “Us. I just…I can’t even remember it right.”

“What?” Theon asked, sitting up and taking Robb’s hands in his. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

“I…remember. What we used to do,” Robb said softly, leaning against Theon’s shoulder. “But…it doesn’t…it feels confusing.”

“Confusing?” Theon echoed, feeling worried.

“I know we fucked and I know it was great and wonderful but…I don’t know _why_ it was great.”

“I…I still don’t…I’m sorry Robb, I’m just not following,” Theon floundered.

“I…I can’t…that’s not how I think of sex anymore, Theon,” Robb said. “I… _can’t_ think of it as good even when I try and…the memories just confuse me now because I wonder why I didn’t feel…gods I can’t even say it.”

Theon felt his insides twist painfully, “How they made you feel.”

“And I know you’re not them, I _know_ that, but I…I just…”

Theon pulled Robb close as he trailed off. “Shh. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Robb started to cry, “Why…why can’t I just…just get this straight in my head…?”

“Robb, it’s all right,” Theon murmured into his hair. “It’s all right, I’m not mad at you.”

How could he be mad at Robb for this? For being hurt so badly his own memories got twisted and confused and…gods. Why did Robb think he’d blame him?

Robb hiccupped brokenly. “I just they…I always felt so…so damn filthy, like a used rag or something and after so long I couldn’t…I couldn’t…it stopped making sense that I ever _didn’t_ feel like that even though I also could never think you’d make me feel like that and _I’m sorry-_ ”

“Robb, breathe,” Theon said, rubbing circles on his back. “Just breath. You don’t have to be sorry, it wasn’t your fault.”

It was so hard to stay calm. He wanted to go and make someone _hurt_ for this but…anyone he could think of going after was either already dead or safely doing battle in the South, out of his reach. So he needed to be calm because that was what Robb needed from him.

“It got worse when they…they realized…please don’t hate me…”

“I can’t hate you, Robb,” Theon said.

“I…I tried…to think of you. Pretend it was you fucking me, your cock I had to suck. It just…it didn’t make it okay but it made me feel a bit better and _I’m sorry_.”

It had hurt when Reek said it, hurt and stoked his anger so _hot_ that the jackass had been lucky to get off with just a rock to the face. But from Robb it was just heartbreaking. “It’s all right. You were just trying to get through it.”

“…One of them told you.”

“I didn’t know if they were lying or not…but yes,” Theon admitted. “I told you, though, anything they told me…I didn’t know if it was true or not…”

“Gods, you _knew_.” Robb sounded so disgusted, but Theon had the sinking feeling Robb was more disgusted with himself than with him. “You knew and you still…”

“I love you,” Theon said softly.

Robb nodded, “That. But…but I…I wonder if when I was pretending…if that’s why my memories got so mixed up. Why I can’t think of them right.”

“I don’t care,” Theon said. “You could have forgotten all of it if that might have helped.”

“No,” Robb said sharply, arms snaking around Theon and holding him tightly. “No, no, _no_. Never forget you. Never.”

“All right. All right,” Theon said. “I…thank you. That…that’s…I really like that.”

Gods he sounded like an idiot. A love-struck idiot.

Robb nodded, still not letting go of him. “Good.”

“I just don’t think you quite get it, Stark,” Theon said, one arm wrapping around Robb’s hips while the other buried its fingers in his hair. “I’m _yours_ already. You pretty much own me. Know why?”

Robb shook his head, eyes wide and stunned. It was adorable, even if those pretty blue eyes were reddened from crying.

“Because you love me and I love you,” Theon said softly. “So you don’t have to worry about where you stand with me, all right? I’m not saying we don’t have a dozen other things to worry about but but that _is not one of them_. Okay?”

One of Robb’s arms slid from around him and Theon sighed as three fingers brushed his cheek.

“Okay,” Robb agreed. He swallowed, “I…I like that you want me. Even though I…I can’t…you know.”

Theon smiled, “I know. And it’s fine.”

It didn’t entirely make sense to him, but it was fine. He could understand Robb not wanting sex after what had happened to him, but not minding that Theon obviously wanted to fuck him, in fact _wanting_ Theon to want to…

Fuck it. It made his head spin. All he needed to know was that what he was doing right now was fine. And it was.

“We’ll think in the morning about what to do when your mother comes,” Theon said.

Robb nodded and lay down again, gesturing for Theon to pull the furs up.

As soon as he was sure Robb was sleeping deeply, Theon silently slipped over to the chamber pot and braced a hand on the wall.

He allowed himself to think of Robb this time, think of Robb without feeling so ashamed of doing it, and quickly and silently made himself come.

Even if Robb wanted to be wanted, Theon wasn’t sure how knowing _just_ how hard he made Theon and how often would make the Stark feel. Especially given Robb’s firm veto on sex.

Still, this was enough. He had Robb, had Robb’s love. That was what he really wanted.

It almost made him laugh. For all his strengths, all the fearsome reputation he’d won, he was _such_ a blushing maid in regards to what he wanted from a match. _Love_. It’d give his whole former house deaths from shock, that was for sure.

Gods. He and Robb and Rickon and been talking about it so much that he had dead Greyjoys on his mind. He shook his head, chuckling, as he headed back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon's quip about the Stormlands and Crownlands was an in-joke jab at myself. I once started a big "how I would make he series end" tale only to realized I'd mixed up the locations of the two areas and even based a plot point on the Stormlands being further north. I'm still trying to iron out the kinks months later. 
> 
> As this universe has not had Renly die yet, so also have we not had the Battle of Blackwater. Hence King's Landing having a full fleet and thus being hard to attack by sea. 
> 
> Robb and Theon have started broaching more of Robb's issues, and what good timing, as Catelyn's nearly arrived! I hope I was clear about how Robb feels about being wanted by Theon.


	10. Chapter 10

Robb woke up cold. This was unsurprising as soon as he got his bearings, as it appeared that last night Theon had been greedy and stolen the furs. “I need those more than you.”

“Hwa..?” Theon mumbled. “Robb?”

“I’m cold,” Robb said plainly.

Theon seemed too tired to still get it. “Well, come here then.”

“You seem a bit tied up.”

“Wha…oh. Sorry,” Theon said, untangling himself from the quilts and furs. “How’d that happen?”

“I’ll assume you had to turn over a few times,” Robb replied.

“Sorry,” Theon chuckled, reaching for Robb. “Gods, you’re like ice!”

Since Theon felt like a fire that was probably true. “Well if someone hadn’t stolen all the blankets…”

“I didn’t mean to,” Theon said, pulling him close and rubbing his hands down Robb’s back and sides. “Gods, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t sound so worried,” Robb promised. “I’m fine.”

“I…I just…gods,” Theon chuckled. “I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

“Just a bit,” Robb said, tangling his fingers in Theon’s hair, his other hand reaching for Theon’s cheek to hold him still for a soft kiss.

Theon sighed softly, his hands sliding over Robb’s still-bony hips as he kissed back. Robb nipped slightly at Theon’s lower lip, hoping to get him to deepen the kiss.

Theon obliged, hauling Robb even closer as his tongue slid into Robb’s mouth.

Robb shuddered slightly as he felt Theon’s tongue run over where some of his teeth were missing.

Theon pulled back slightly, “You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine,” Robb said, going to kiss him again.

Theon backed up and frowned, “Robb.”

“I…I don’t like reminders. Is all.” Didn’t want to think about how he was like _this_ , not when he was just trying to go back to how things were…

Theon looked terrified, “I…I was acting like-?”

Gods no! “No, no, not you! _Me_ , Theon! Me!”

“What?”

“I…I just…I wish I didn’t have to think about it. So much.”

“Then don’t.” Theon said. “Dwelling on it like this can’t be good for you, Robb.”

And he was probably right about that, especially with his mother coming so soon… “It’s…hard not to. Sometimes.”

“Can I help?” Theon asked, sounding extremely interested.

“I…I don’t know,” Robb admitted. “Sorry.”

“Well, when you think of something, tell me,” Theon said.

“But…doing what you doing does help. You know?” Robb said.

Theon shrugged, “If you say so.”

.o.o.o.

Theon once more found himself in the role of Rickon’s amusement, helping him play fetch with Shaggydog while Robb looked over letters and Bran read more.

Theon really hoped Shaggydog didn’t decide he wanted the ball more than he wanted Theon to have hands.

“What do the letters say, Robb?” Bran asked. “How’s Jon?”

Robb smiled softly, “It’s going as planned. They think the attack they’re doing after they write this letter should be the last one they need. Then Jon will meet with us here.”

“Like Mother?” Rickon asked, wresting the ball from his wolf’s maw and threw it across the yard.

Theon hoped not. Jon Snow in a position of importance was not someone to put near Catelyn Stark when she was already worried about her children and therefore likely to have a shorter fuse. Then again, they’d have to tolerate each other—or more she’d have to tolerate Jon, Jon never seemed to show any serious issue with her beyond the ones Theon personally shared—eventually, given current circumstances.

He was once again reminded of the fact that he’d been putting no thought into the campaign beyond getting Robb back. Clearly Jon and likely the others had some plan, probably getting Arya and Sansa back was a key part…gods he needed to pay attention. Jon _did_ somewhat count on him when they were planning how to kill people…large groups of people…

A loud bark snapped Theon from his thoughts. Shaggydog looked more peeved than usual.

Oh. The ball. Theon took it and tossed it, the black wad of fur and teeth racing after his prize instantly.

“You okay?” Rickon asked.

“Just fine, little Stark,” Theon said.

He should be. He was good at killing people. He should _like_ that he’d be playing to his obvious strengths again.

“Theon. Come here.”

He turned and walked over to Robb, “What’s wrong?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Robb said. “You looked upset all of the sudden.”

“It’s nothing you need to know.”

Robb glared at him, “You really think you can get me to talk about what bothers me and then you get to hide things?”

“…Not in front of the kids, Robb,” Theon said. “All right?”

“All right. But you will tell me,” Robb said firmly.

“It’s not something I’m sure I can articulate.”

“Then come up with a way to,” Robb said, reaching down as the ball rolled near his foot. He handed it to Theon, who threw it as hard as he could once more.

Theon sighed because he’d been telling the truth: he was barely sure how to even explain what he felt for when Robb did force him to tell.

It wasn’t that he felt fighting was all he was good for or anything. That would be childish and stupid.

It was more that he really sort of was unsure with what he was going to do now that he had Robb back. He wanted to just focus on Robb getting better but he also wanted to go and help destroy the house that had given the Boltons the incentive to do this.

He just wasn’t sure he could handle leaving Robb again. He didn’t want to but he also knew he couldn’t stay here when the army went south. They needed every man they could get, after all.

And he was _very_ good at it.

.o.o.o.

Theon had fallen strangely quiet after Robb had told him to speak, and while Robb could understand not wanting to worry the children it was a little worrying in itself to see the normally verbose archer so silent.

He hadn’t had time to corner Theon until evening, since today had been a rare day where he hadn’t needed to lie down at lunch. He’d considered faking fatigue anyway, and he’d have been believed readily, but he wanted to try and push himself a bit to see if it help.

After dinner Robb was cursing himself and his stubborn pride. He was so tried he wasn’t sure he’d make it through this sort of a talk, “So, tell me what’s been bothering you.”

Theon ran a hand through his hair, “I, I just…it sounds stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I just,” and Theon seemed to curl in on himself a bit in a way that made Robb wince in sympathy since he often did the same when stressed these days, “I’m going to have to go back with the army.”

“Well, obviously. Jon can’t spare a fighter like you, not against the Lannisters.”

Theon looked up, “And you’re fine with that?”

“Well, yes. I didn’t know this was even a question, really. Of course you’d want to go.”

Theon shrugged before giving Robb a small, sad smile, “I just don’t want to leave you again, okay?”

What? “And you wouldn’t be. I have to go with Jon. We already agreed on that, didn’t you see the letters?”

“Well, no, you’ve been the one reading most—wait. You… _you’re_ going?”

If anything Theon looked more nervous now. And the idiot said he didn’t pity Robb. If it wouldn’t have likely hurt his hand more than Theon’s shoulder Robb could have punched him.

“Did you think I _couldn’t_?” Robb demanded in lieu of hitting.

“What, _no_!” Theon protested. “I…I just…I…I’m kind of a bit of a…a different person. On the field. You know.”

Robb remembered Theon telling him similar in Winterfell, if not in as many words.

“And I like that it’s useful, don’t get me wrong, Robb, I really like fighting and winning, truly I do, but I…I’m not sure I always like who I am when I’m doing it and I’m worried you won’t like who I am when I’m doing it and I just don’t-”

Robb kissed him to shut up his babbling. “Theon. If it’s you, I won’t dislike it. Okay?”

Theon’s arms fell around him, tight like iron bars. “It can’t be that easy.”

“Yes it can. Unless there’s something else?” Robb asked.

“I…I feel like…sometimes,” Theon seemed to be fighting his pride with every word so Robb didn’t rush him. “Sometimes…that maybe all I’m good for is fighting.”

“Well then you’re being stupid. Stop it,” Robb said flatly. He had no idea where Theon even got such an idea.

Theon gaped at him and Robb realized that not only had he probably just been too harsh, but also that he’d probably not gotten his real point across.

“You are much more than your abilities with the bow and sword and your quick thinking on the field and anything else to do with battle,” Robb said. “You…you’re the only one who can get me to laugh anymore. You’re always ready to smile and try and make things feel better even if you’re scared too. You…gods, Theon, I love you, I can name more if you want.”

Theon was giving him an odd look, like he was someone far greater than he actually was. Sure, it was flattering, but it was also a bit unnerving.

“Could you please say something?” Robb asked after the silence started to become uncomfortable.

“Sorry…just…not used to such…praise. I guess.” Theon was blushing deeply and staring down at his feet. “I…not that you don’t, I mean…”

“You just like to be told,” Robb said.

“It helps,” Theon admitted, his voice sounding almost shy at this point.

“You’re such a foolish man sometimes, you know that?” Robb asked, leaning up and kissing him.

Theon kissed back deeply, tilting Robb backwards and slightly pushing him against the wall.

Robb smiled as the Ironborn finally pulled back for air, “Better?”

“I could…do with a bit more reminding,” Theon said, still looking entirely too ashamed of having to ask.

Robb would have to work on that with him, then. “That’s fine, Theon. If you need something _tell me_ , all right?”

“All right,” Theon said, the smile on his face small but genuine. “But I think it’s far too late to dwell on things, especially when we’ll need to handle far greater troubles then my ego tomorrow.”

Right. His mother was nearly here, and Jon would be the same soon.

“And those are also far too great of troubles to dwell on tonight,” Robb decided. He didn’t want to think about them at any rate.

“I suppose you’re suggesting bed as well then, Stark?” Theon asked, lips curling into a smirk while his eyes narrowed in amusement.

Before that sort of look would have been an invitation to wind up naked in Theon’s sheets with a hard cock up his backside. Now, though, the intent was the same even if it was asking for far less than before.

Robb sat down on the bed, smiling, “Come here.”

Theon smiled, walking and then climbing around from behind him on the other side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around Robb’s stomach, resting his chin on Robb’s shoulder.

“I…I know you don’t mind…mind _this_ ,” Robb said, gesturing at himself. “How could I mind what you become on a battlefield?”

Theon closed his eyes, “I just…I worry.”

“Remember what you told me? That you’re mine?” Robb asked. “That goes both ways, Theon. I’m yours, too. You need to know that.”

Theon nodded, “All right. That’s a pretty good point.”

“This isn’t a debate, Theon. I’m being serious here,” Robb said.

“And so am I. That was a good point and I’ll remind myself of it next time I start thinking silly things,” Theon said, kissing his ear. “And I want you to do the same, Stark. No ‘oh, Theon how can you mind _this_?’ like there’s something seriously wrong with you. All right?”

Robb laughed. “All right, all right, I get it.”

He gasped as Theon yanked him down and kicked the furs so he could try to get them under the pelts and blankets without letting go of Robb.

“So don’t you ever think I have a _problem_ with how you look, Stark. Because I swear I do not and you know I would not lie to you about it. Am I clear?” Theon demanded.

“As ice,” Robb said, extremely pleased about his current position in Theon’s arms.

Theon curled around him slightly, “Good, because I love you and I want to make sure you remember that.”

“I remember that. Do you remember that I love you?”

“Yes. Gods we’re a mess.”

“Yes we are. Good night, Theon.”

“Good night, Robb.”

.o.o.o.

Theon smiled as he woke up. Robb was curled against his side tightly. Safely. Just how he liked it.

Looked like they’d overslept a bit. The sun was decently up, at any rate. He reached for Robb and shook his shoulder.

“Wake up, Stark. You need to eat something, at any rate.”

Robb grumbled and his face scrunched up adorably.

“Come on Robb,” Theon murmured, his lips brushing Robb’ ear, “You need to eat, okay?”

Robb pushed himself up, yawning, “Okay, okay…”

Theon smiled and went to go brush his hair into so semblance of order while Robb went digging through the drawers for clothes. “So, what’s the plan for today, Stark?”

“Let’s eat and then tend to the maps or my brothers, whichever needs doing before my mother gets here. Jon’s likely sent another letter by now saying we have the Dreadfort and I’ll have to adjust some of the strategies I’ve come up to account for that-”

“Anything you say, Robb.”

Robb gave him a half-hearted glare for cutting him off, but Theon only smiled in response and Robb’s expression soon morphed into a fond grin.

“You’re impossible, Theon.”

Theon’s grin only widened at the affection in Robb’s voice, despite how stern he was trying to be.

“I love you too, Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time we addressed one of Theon's issues, namely his poor self esteem. It'll crop up again, but now Robb at least knows it exists. We also had Robb and Theon settled into a bit of a routine despite the fact that they both know it can't last since they need to go south.   
> Next time we'll have Catelyn's arrival.


	11. Chapter 11

Theon pinned Rickon to the bed, “You will get that rat’s nest brushed and you will _like it_ , little Stark!”

Rickon tried to throw him off but Theon was easily more than twice his size. “ _Robb_!”

“Rickon, let Hodor or Theon brush your hair,” Robb scolded from where he was helping Bran put on a new pair of boots.

“I don’t think he’s brushed it in over a week,” Bran said with a sympathetic wince.

“That’s his own fault, there’s more than one brush in that chest of drawers,” Theon said, wrangling Rickon into a sitting position. He finally pinned the kid to his chest with one arm, the other free. “Hodor, brush!”

The large man passed over the brush and Theon started picking it through Rickon’s tangles.

“That _hurts_!” Rickon whined.

“Then you should have brushed it before it got this bad,” Theon said. “You think I don’t brush my hair every day?”

“Well, you’re vain. That’s different,” Bran said smugly.

Theon shrugged. That was probably true. Gods, Rickon’s curls were stubborn… “Hold still, you’ll only catch the tangles and make it worse.”

Rickon whined again but stopped struggling.

Theon quickly finished and tossed the brush back to Hodor, “Your turn.”

Thankfully, unlike Rickon, Hodor could be trusted to brush his own hair. Theon set the littlest Stark on his feet and straightened his clothes. “There. You’re good. Stay that way; no rolling around with Shaggy until after meeting your mother.”

Rickon sulked and sat by the door, Shaggydog walking over to sit with him and growling at Theon as he passed.

Theon rolled his eyes, took the comb he had nearly lost in Rickon’s knots earlier, and ran it through his own hair.

“You should tie that back.”

Theon looked over at Robb, surprised. Robb simply pulled a gray ribbon from his pocket—where the hell as he gotten that?—and came over. “Here, let me.”

Theon staunchly refused to blush, given that they weren’t alone. Robb gently combed his hair back into a tail and started to wrap the ribbon. “No bows.”

“Of course, no bows for the strong Ironborn warrior,” Robb said, sounding amused.

“Bran, is he putting a bow in?” Theon asked.

“No, he’s being nice and just tying it,” Bran said.

“Promise, no bows,” Robb said, reaching for his gloves. Each had two fingers stuffed, hiding the disfigurement of his hands.

Hodor gestured at the basket, “Hodor?”

“No,” Theon said. “There’s a chair in the hall for him. Just a normal carry.”

Bran grinned. Theon had the feeling that he hated being hauled like produce more than usual some days and could prefer just hanging around someone’s neck when he felt like that.

“All right, you all look great,” Theon said, checking to make sure we was good as well in the mirror. Thank gods Robb wasn’t lying about the bow… Bran was right. He _was_ vain.

Robb chuckled darkly and Theon squeezed his hand, “You _all_ look fine. All right?”

Robb had been worrying over this for days and Theon would be damned if he let Robb go into this like he came out of the nightmares he’d had last night.

.o.o.o.

For once Robb was grateful he had trouble walking, since it gave him an excuse to lean on Theon while they waited for his mother. He could just claim he was tired.

Actually, he _was_ tired. He’d had nightmares for the last few nights and he hated that they were back. He didn’t know if it was his nerves over his mother or if because he was talking about what had happened more with Theon…

Gods, how many times had he woken Theon up just last night? Three?

“It’ll be fine,” Theon said softly. “Marlon promised to give her a bit of warning.”

Marlon Manderly and Theon seemed to get on rather well. Though that might have been since Marlon hadn’t been happy with his archers slacking off and yesterday ago he’d roped Theon into helping shame them straight by getting the Ironborn to shoot more bull’s-eyes than all of them put together.

Twenty straight, at one point. Robb had been quite proud of him.

Rickon was bouncing up and down on the bench next to Bran. He’d thought their mother had been here ten minutes ago, but it had just been a servant bringing in some cakes and drinks.

The sweets had not curbed Rickon’s energy, naturally.                    

Robb heard a commotion from out in the courtyard and suddenly every muscle he had locked up.

“Robb,” Theon hissed. “It will be _fine_. I’m right here.”

It wasn’t fine, though. His mother was going to see him and they’d gotten word earlier that Jon had taken the Dreadfort and was coming south again and this quiet little place he and Theon had carved out here felt like it was crashing down…

“One thing at a time,” Theon said softly. “Don’t think about it all right now, just handle this.”

“It’ll be fine, Robb. She’ll see you’re fine,” Bran said loyally.

Robb smiled at him.

The door opened.

Rickon was across the room like a hawk after a mouse, “Mother!”

Robb couldn’t relax even though his mother’s attention wasn’t on him yet. He watched carefully as she dropped to her knees to embrace Rickon, kissing his face and weeping with joy.

He saw her smile as she looked at Bran and noted the exact moment she caught sight of him as well. It was easy since the smile fell at once.

Her eyes widened, “Robb?”

Well at least he was recognizable…

He nodded, “Good to see you again.”

Theon went to move, perhaps trying to give him and his mother some space, but Robb clamped down on his hold on him. He didn’t want Theon going anywhere.

Gods, she looked horrified. She was trying to hide it but her eyes…he knew.

“What happened?” she asked, reaching for his face.

Robb really hoped his grip wasn’t hurting Theon’s arm by now. “A lot. I’m getting better.”

He was glad he managed to not flinch when she touched him. The look in her eyes hurt so much even though he knew she didn’t even know she was doing it and it took all he had to keep himself from panicking or accidentally showing some emotion that might make things worse.

He hoped she could just leave it at that for good, and not just merely until they weren’t with Bran and Rickon. For now she turned to Bran to hug him too.

He could feel Theon’s fingers slowly running up and down his spine. He wanted to relax, really, he did, but he just couldn’t.

Theon actually looked a bit uncomfortable, so Robb let go of his arm. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Theon said, shooting him a small grin. “Are…are you sure I shouldn’t…?”

“Stay put,” Robb said. “Please.”

Theon looked confused but nodded.

Of course right then his mother noticed Theon, “Theon, would you mind leaving us for a few moments?”

“He stays,” Robb said. Perhaps too quickly but…Theon had to stay.

“He’s still had some trouble with stairs,” Theon said quietly. “I’ll need to help him get back to his room. After we’re done here.”

“Robb, he can come back for that-”

“He stays,” Robb repeated.

His mother looked stunned and Robb wondered vaguely just how the rest of Winterfell had thought of Theon before all this. Because surely such insecurities as the ones Theon had offered a few evenings ago hadn’t come about overnight and for Theon to admit to being unused to praise from anyone but Robb…

But he couldn’t dwell on that now. What mattered was what was at hand.

“Lady Stark,” Theon greeted as if he wasn’t acting as her son’s backrest. Good man.

“I’m glad you’re all safe,” his mother said tightly, pulling Rickon to her bosom again.

Robb nodded, “How…how were things going on your end?”

“I got out of the Vale to find a war on and hear Winterfell had been betrayed,” she said, reaching over to haul Bran in as well. “I…for so long I thought I’d lost all my sons.”

Robb waited for her to thank Theon, but she didn’t.

“And then when I found I hadn’t Tywin was personally attacking the Riverlands over my actions with Tyrion Lannister and my father had my brother and uncle raise an army and…I just couldn’t get North. There was no way to.”

“I’ll assume it only got more complicated when the Ironborn attacked,” Theon said.

“It did,” she agreed. “At the time the only safe way was the Twins but…I did not have what he wanted as an offer.’

“You’re his liege lord’s daughter, the fu… _hell_ did you need to offer for?” Theon asked.

“It’s how Frey does things,” she said. “So we had to wait until it was safe to go around. “I…my brother and I considered an alliance with Renly but we never had the time…it was only when the Northern army started making headway that I could do anything.”

“I know you did your best,” Robb said. “That’s all any of us could do.”

Theon passed him some water. Robb frowned but experimentally went to swallow—oh, his throat was dry as sand. He must not have heard it in his voice…but it looked like his mother had along with Theon because she looked worried.

He picked up the glass only to notice his mother’s eyes fix on his hand, but the glove…oh. The stuffed digits of the glove didn’t curl with his fingers when he lifted the cup.

Damn it all.

“Robb?” she asked and something about how fearful and horrified her tone was just about made him close down. “Robb what…what happened to your hand?”

“I…I’m sorry. I need to lie down,” he said, elbowing Theon before the archer could protest. “I tire easily.”

“You’d been doing better,” Rickon said, clearly trying to be loyal but not realizing the situation.

Damn it. Robb did not want to be mad at Rickon right now. “Theon, could you help me back to the room, please?”

“Of course,” Theon said, ever loyal himself and more able to read the situation than a small child.

Robb saw his mother stand up as he left, thought he’d heard her call his name but…

He just walked. His feet were screaming by the end of it and Theon was outright forcing him to slow down on the stairs but he’d _had_ to get out of that room, he’d just had to.

“That…well it started well,” Theon said as he opened the door.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what? Be around your mother? Because Robb, I know you’re not that cruel.”

“I can’t…I can’t…she’ll want to know. And I can’t talk about it. I can barely tell you,” Robb said.

“Me? I’m….I’m…gods, Robb, she’s your _mother_.”

“I know that!” Robb said. “I know it’s terrible of me but I can’t do it! I can’t talk about all of it, I can’t answer without falling into a crying mess and that would only make it worse and I should just stay away from everyone and take the fucking black as soon as I can or something-”

“Robb. Shut up.”

Robb’s head snapped up; Theon was glaring daggers at him.

Theon folded his arms, “You’re upset. That’s fine. But you’re making it _worse_ by spinning it around like that. You are not going near the damn Wall, Robb Stark, we need you here for your plans if nothing else. I won’t let you do this to yourself, Robb, I might be willing to let you do a lot, but hurting yourself like this is not allowed at all. So stop it.”

Robb swallowed, tasting salt. So he was crying then. “I…I’ll try.”

“Good,” Theon said. “Now, until she saw the glove, I thought you did quite well in there. But you panicked when she looked, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And when you panic, what happens?”

“I stop thinking,” Robb said. Theon knew him well.

“Right. Now…do you…I…I can tell her. Or at least answer her questions. If you want.”

It was cowardly. It was the easy way out. Of course he’d agree anyway. “Would you?”

“All right,” Theon said. “I’ll do that then, as soon as you’re asleep.”

Robb nodded. Now that the anxiety was wearing off he was starting to feel woozily tired. Theon pulled him close and started stroking his hair.

Soon enough it all went blissfully black.

.o.o.o.

“May I speak to Lady Catelyn?” Theon asked politely.

The maid looked a bit surprised but turned and announced him anyway.

The door was opened and he walked in, “My lady.”

“Theon.” She didn’t sound entirely happy with him, but then in her eyes he was the person who’d just helped Robb avoid her without a second thought.

“He…he _really_ doesn’t want to talk about it, my lady,” Theon said. “But…you can ask me.”

“Leave us,” Catelyn ordered the maids. As they left she gestured sharply to a chair, “Sit. Tell me everything.”

Theon nodded and did as he was told. Antagonizing her would only make this worse. “Robb sent Rickon, Bran, Hodor and I away before the Boltons got to close. He also sent a letter to Jon-”

“I know that,” she said. “What happened to my son, Theon? Bran says he won’t even consider being lord ever again and… _what happened_?”

He swallowed, “Roose Bolton…wanted him humiliated. Broken. So he handed Robb over to his bastard son, Ramsay, and Ramsay’s friend Reek. They…they raped him. Many times. In public.”

She fell back, just barely grabbing a bedpost for balance. “ _What_?”

“And whipped him. And cut of some of his toes and two fingers on each hand,” Theon said, too focused on getting it all out to notice how she reacted to the rest. “Flayed him. Beat him. Starved him. Threatened to murder the children of various innocent people at Winterfell unless he’d suck their-”

“Stop!” Catelyn ordered.

Theon bit his tongue before he went into further detail instead of doing as asked.

“If…if it’s all that…how is he _alive_?” she asked, one hand clutched over her heart.

“Because Ramsay Snow didn’t want him dead and Roose Bolton did not care what Ramsay did. He didn’t want Robb as a hostage, not really. He wanted a broken Stark and that was what Ramsay gave him.”

“And that is why he wants to cede to Bran?”

“Yes,” Theon said. “Too many people know what happened to him. As I said, a lot of what happened was public.”

Catelyn choked out a sob and Theon wished he knew what to do but she wasn’t Robb and he really only knew what to do when Robb cried.

“Why him?” she asked.

“I asked the same thing,” Theon said. “Jon…Jon said that’s the real cruelty of it. That there was no reason for it to be him.”

Her eyes had flashed a bit when he mentioned Jon, but they’d softened again by the time he’d finished the sentence. “So you are his guard, then?”

“Yes.”

“And…he said he was getting better. Is he truly?”

“Physically he is improving quite well if you ask me. I…I can’t really guess mentally that well but he seems more at ease than he was when we first found him.” Not that that was very difficult to do. “He still has nightmares but they seem less harsh than they were.” Also not difficult.

Her fists clenched, “And _you’re_ allowed to know all of this?”

He was stung by the implications. Why him, why not _family_? “He doesn’t want to worry his brothers and he doesn’t want to worry you. I was there when we found him. I’d be worried if he didn’t tell me.”

“And you think I’m _not_?” she snapped.

“No, but I respect my friend’s wishes.” Whatever Catelyn wanted or felt would never matter more to Theon than Robb’s own wants or feelings. Wouldn’t even if Robb hadn’t loved him. Robb had been his friend for years and his mother had always tried to pry them apart.

So Theon couldn’t really feel much compassion for her beyond general sympathy at her situation. He was being as helpful as he could; if that wasn’t enough for her than he had no more to give.

“So then you agree with him?”

“Not always, no.” He still remembered Jon’s point about doing things for Robb’s own good after all. “But on this, yes. He…he’s not good at being around people for long times. Ask Bran and Rickon, if he’s about in the morning with them or looking over the maps he’ll usually go back to his room and sleep until nearly suppertime. It’s…draining. For him.”

Catelyn closed her eyes. “So Bran is to be lord?”

“Unless he manages to cede to Rickon somehow.” Which he seemed in favor of doing.

“Jon Sno… _Jon_ will be here soon,” she said tightly. “He should know which lord he’s Lord Protector for.”

Her voice had suddenly gotten much more bitter and Theon did not want to get mixed up in politics at _all_. “I don’t think he’ll mind doing it for either.”

“It’s better for these things to be clear.”

Theon’s eyes widened at her implication, “You…I’m not discussing this. I have no idea _how_ to discuss this, Lady Stark, and frankly it doesn’t concern me.”

He supposed from an outside view it was rational. Jon was the oldest son of Ned Stark, and the only one in his majority able to perform any real duties. Bran was crippled, thus leading most to assume Rickon would inherit, and Rickon was all of six. So yes, he could see how one might think Jon would try to usurp the inheritance, unless they knew it was _Jon_ for gods’ sakes.

“If you’re so worried, discuss it with your sons,” Theon amended. “But…I don’t think it’s my business. If that’s all-”

“I do need to thank you.”

He blinked, halfway from rising out of his chair.

“For getting Bran and Rickon here, to safety,” Catelyn clarified. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Like I could have done otherwise,” he said, nodding. “Goodnight.”

.o.o.o.

“Well?”

Theon shrugged as he slid his shirt off and joined Robb under the furs, “She’s worried. Only natural. Well, okay, about _you_ it’s only natural.”

Robb frowned. What else could she be worried about? “And what else is there?”

Theon shrugged again, “She seems concerned that with you incapacitated and Bran wanting to cede too, Jon will end up inheriting instead of Rickon even if not in name or something. I don’t fucking get it, all right? It’s strange.”

“Mother never liked Jon,” Robb admitted.

It was a natural instinct, he supposed, to fear an older bastard who might try to take from your children. But Jon was _Jon_ and he’d never do that. He was his father’s son, after all.

“Yes, well, I told her to kindly not talk to me about it since it’s none of my business. I might not like your brother much but I won’t go backstabbing him like that.”

Robb nodded, wishing he could be left out of such talks as easily as Theon. “So…you told her everything, then?”

“Yes.”

Robb wished he’d had the strength to to it, but he hadn’t. So he couldn’t be mad at Theon for doing as he asked. “I wish you didn’t have to.”

“Someone needed to. You were having trouble. It’s fine.”

Going by Theon’s tone he really felt that way, too.

“Things are going to change now,” he said as Theon looped an arm over his waist. “This is probably the last peace we’ll know for a while.”

“We have a bit more time. Until Jon gets here at least,” Theon said. “Is something wrong with that?”

“I…I’m worried. About things changing.”

“If you’re worrying about the effort it will take to hide…this, don’t,” Theon said. “I’m your guard. There won’t be questions about us having to share a tent. I think nearly everyone will have had to double up anyway, save a few higher lords. Getting supplies was even more disorganized than getting the fucking soldiers.”

“That’s good,” Robb said. “That it won’t be a problem, I mean. Are you still worried about how you get in a fight?”

Theon paused at that before sighing, “A bit, I suppose. Still, not much I can do about it. They need every fighter they have, and I am a damned good one so…”

“A very good one indeed from what I’ve seen and heard,” Robb said, around to cup the back of Theon’s head. His remaining fingers curled into that thick dark hair.

“And _you_ have been proving that you’re still a master at battlefield tactics,” Theon replied, fingers dancing on Robb’s spine. “We’re both needed out there soon, Stark.”

Robb closed his eyes. There’d be more pity, more people wondering what happened, more rumors…more people perhaps guessing or worse, telling.

But they’d be avenging his father, avenging his own losses as well. They’d remind people just why the North was so important in Robert’s Rebellion, and why it had barely needed the king to crush the Greyjoy Rebellion either.

He opened his eyes to Theon’s concerned face. He smiled and it seemed to ease Theon’s fears. “Believe it or not…I’m not worried anymore.”

“We’ll kill them all. I promise you,” Theon said seriously. “All who’ve done you and your house wrong. We will kill them all.”

“Winter is Coming,” Robb agreed, sliding his other arm around Theon’s neck and linking them behind his head.

He didn’t let go even as sleep took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a bit of a hectic week for me, so you might need to wait until next week for another update. But I managed to get this one out!  
> I'm really trying not to demonize Catelyn. The issue is that half the POVs concerning her are Theon's, and as he admitted...he's not got that many reasons personally to like her. And when Jon gets back in the picture...yeah, i don;t think she's evil, but like with the Renly situation, I'm going for how these characters view things.  
> Next time we'll have a more civil chat between Catelyn and her eldest son (and Theon and her other sons) concerning what the seven hells is going on down south and elsewhere.


	12. Chapter 12

His mother had arranged for them to have breakfast together, privately, as a family. Thankfully she seemed to have grasped the fact that where Robb went so did Theon.

And really Robb felt Theon should have counted anyway. Excluding formal occasions he’d eaten at the Stark family’s table for ten years, usually sandwiched between Robb and either Bran or Arya.

Speaking of Arya, according to his mother she seemed to have vanished.

“Some of the men who left for the Wall rather than support the Lannisters passed by Riverrun weeks ago, and Edmure sent a raven after talking to them,” she explained. “Arya hasn’t been seen in King’s Landing since before…before your father…”

“She escaped?” Bran asked hopefully.

“That’s the best case,” Robb said. “We can only hope so.”

There were other possibilities. She could have tried to escape and been killed, with the death covered up. She could have managed the escape but died on the road from outlaws or running into a battle or Ironborn... There would be Lannister men looking for her as well, easily.

“My uncle organized some of the men who are poor fighters but good trackers into a band and sent them back south to look for her,” Mother said. “We can only hope now.”

Rickon frowned pensively, “Maybe…maybe she’ll find Nymeria! And Nymeria will bring her to us like Ghost did with Jon!”

Catelyn looked between her youngest and Theon, “Jon’s _wolf_ brought him?”

“He tracked us. Ran into Summer in the woods, Summer led them back to us,” Theon said. “I…I’ll admit, I’m not too sure of how he did…”

Robb was. There was something odd about their wolves. They were too smart, for one. And they knew what their Stark wanted without being asked. It was a possibility, unless Arya and Nymeria had been apart too long…

Bran seemed deep in thought too. Maybe Robb could talk to him about it, see what he was considering…

“Well, there’s not much in the way of records on the behavior of direwolves,” Mother said, reaching down and patting Shaggydog on the head. She seemed to be the only person outside Rickon he wasn’t surly with. “They may instinctively know how to find their siblings.”

“Ghost reacted when he saw Grey Wind’s bones,” Theon noted. “It was…weirdly human, if you ask me. Took him a moment to snap out of it.”

“I’m told _you_ reacted when you saw them,” Robb replied.

“I was a bit annoyed, yes,” Theon brushed off the comment. Then again letting Robb’s mother know the man he was trusting with his life could get so volatile as Robb had heard from Theon and others…well, might as well put that off. It’s not like such anger was ever aimed at Robb, anyway, more anyone who hurt Robb. “I liked that wolf plenty well, you know.”

Robb smiled. He vaguely recalled one time when Theon had petted Grey Wind and he’d almost felt those same fingers rubbing behind his own ears…there was some connection there, or had been. He knew it.

“So, what shall we do when Jon arrives?” Catelyn asked.

“Someone needs to go back to Winterfell. House Manderly is very kind but we shouldn’t impose on them any longer than need be and we need to prepare it for when winter sets in anyway,” Robb said. “I think that should be you, mother, with Bran and Rickon. Theon and I need to stay with the army. Strategy by raven can be dangerous, and they need him on the field.”

“We’ll need to pick a Baratheon,” she said because it was true.

“Whoever we side with suddenly gains a massive advantage towards getting the throne,” Theon agreed. “But…there’s something else we’ll have to do. Before going south.”

Right. Theon’s father. “We’re already pushing back fairly well against the Greyjoy’s forces. They’re down to but a few strongholds here and there.”

“Strategically you should focus on Asha,” Theon said. “All the moves she’s been making have been very clever. Victarion is only performing very simple raids in comparison. Plus she’s Balon’s only heir. We get her, well, then we’re in a position to negotiate.”

“Balon Grejoy does not negotiate easily, Theon. You know that well,” Mother said and Theon nodded.

“Then we cripple him a bit and when we have the time rip him apart. Whatever’s necessary,” Theon said as if he wasn’t talking about the man who’d fathered him.

Going by the look his mother was giving Theon, the though crossed her mind too, but she seemed to dismiss it. “And then will you-”

“Take Pyke? No. They’d never have me,” Theon said. “Let them sort it out themselves after.”

“I don’t know about never having you. Allegiances or not, you would be next in line and have proven yourself as a warrior,” Mother said.

“Yeah! He’s been telling me all about the battles he and Jon have been winning!” Rickon said brightly. “And he said they didn’t barely win, they really really won!”

Theon, for once, actually looked a bit humble. “It was more than just Jon and I, little Stark.”

Rickon rolled his eyes, “I know that, but you were in charge of them!”

“Jon was in charge. I just made suggestions,” Theon said.

Given Jon’s lack of faith in his own strategic abilities, Robb could easily guess that many if not all of those suggestions had been followed.

“Well, then you and Robb should both meet with my uncle once he’s done helping clear the coasts,” Mother said.

“Theon and Robb said he’s a black fish!” Rickon said.

“That’s his sigil, little Stark. And his nickname,” Theon said.

“Like how people used to call me the Young Wolf,” Robb said.

“Some still do,” Theon said idly.

“By some you mean you, and one man is not some,” Robb corrected.

Theon merely grinned. “Ser Marlon did. Last week. After you’d left the map room. Torrhen agreed.”

Robb kicked him under the table.

.o.o.o.

“Fuck. Theon, get over here.”

“What’s wrong?” Theon asked, leaving his cevase game with Wyman. He’d been losing anyway. “Must be bad if you’re swearing in the map room in front of everybody, Robb.”

“Read. This,” Robb said tightly, thrusting a piece of paper—Jon’s latest letter—at him.

Theon’s eyes widened.

 _Balon Greyjoy is dead_.

“You know this feels very…sudden,” he admitted. Too sudden if he stopped to think about it…

“Keep reading,” Robb said, jabbing at the next paragraph.

_Asha Greyjoy sent some Ironborn to me saying they will discuss terms but only after talking to-_

“Me?” Theon asked quietly.

Robb nodded. “I can’t tell what, but…apparently we’re going to need you to talk to them if we want them off our lands.”

“What in the seven hells could they even want?” Theon asked.

“He’s got a point,” Alsayne Mormont mused. “It really makes no sense.”

“Theon, think for me. What could they ask from you?” Robb asked.

“I don’t know!” Theon said. “I mean…the only thing that would interest Asha is my rights and I lost those when I brought your brothers here!”

“But if we can get the Ironborn out of the North then we can march south at once!” Torrhen said. “Well…excluding the Freys…”

“I…what would you have me do?” Theon asked Robb. He was so out of his depth here it wasn’t remotely amusing.

“I’ll write to Jon, see if he can get anything out of them,” Robb said. “In the meantime, we’ll discuss what terms we’ll want from Asha.”

“Every Ironborn short of that one _out_ of the North,” Torrhen said firmly, pointing at Theon.

“A new hostage would probably be good as well…one of her uncles?” Wyman suggested.

“Maybe get them to attack Lannisport as a distraction for our army?” Alsayne offered.

“The third is good, the first is obvious, and I’ll get Jon and my mother to consider the second if it’s feasible,” Robb said.

Theon frowned down at the maps, looking at the clusters of black markers around Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square.

Those were both good gains, and they had to know he’d ask for them to leave both, given his obvious loyalty to the North via his loyalty to Robb. What did he have? He had no name, no inheritance…

“I wish I knew what they wanted,” Robb said softly. “So we could plan this better, make it easier for you.”

“I…I feel like I should know, is all,” he said. “What they want, I mean. It’s…it’s nagging at the back of my head but I can’t quite get it.”

“Well, keep trying for me,” Robb said, getting parchment and a pen to write out his letter.

Okay. What did he have that Asha would want? His rights? Which he didn’t really have anymore… Being male? Not exactly transferable…a military record? No, she had one too by now…

Gods he had no idea…did his father dying somehow restore his rights or something? It didn’t work like that in the North but then the Iron Islands were very, very different from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms…

Well if that’s what she wanted she could fucking take it. Like Theon _wanted_ the kingdom that had thrown him away as a hostage…and as he’d told Lady Stark there was little chance of them accepting him as a lord anyway.

“They’re just going to have to ask,” he said finally. “I have no idea.”

He felt Robb pat his leg under the table.

“We’ll just hear them out, then,” Robb said.

Theon nodded and the meeting turned back to their strategy against the Lannisters.

.o.o.o.

“So long as Edmure and House Reed hold their positions and keep the Neck safe, we should be just fine,” Robb told his mother. “Hopefully long enough for Theon to figure out why the hell his sister’s men want to talk to him.”

“You’re sure he doesn’t know?” Mother asked.

“He was pretty clearly trying to think of something for the rest of the meeting,” Robb replied as they watched Theon hand the ball to Rickon before an over-excited Shaggydog pounced him. “He said the closest he can think of is his rights, but he’s already lost those. So we don’t know.”

“Are you sure he lost them?” she asked.

“We have the letter from Balon himself,” Robb said, his hands curling into fists from the language that had bene used in disinheriting Theon. “It was very clear on the matter.”

“I’m glad you knew you could trust him,” he said. “I…I know I wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I know,” Robb said. “But then…the rest of you didn’t know Theon like I did.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“He…he wasn’t some angry Ironborn just waiting to betray us,” Robb said. “You…you have no idea how grateful he was to Father for the ‘ward’ cover-story.”

“He never said anything.”

“He was terrified of Father. And…I know Father did it so Theon wouldn’t be so scared of Ice, but having him carry the sword to executions…I think it only made things worse. You…you don’t understand, he’d have been fine being treated as a ward, even a disobedient ward because, well, he could be. But every time he was reminded that his head could roll at any time…”

He didn’t know how Theon had borne it, really, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Theon wouldn’t have fared nearly so well without a friend.

“Not at any time. Only if Balon-”

“ _Any time_ ,” Robb corrected. “Theon…he knew his father didn’t care about him. That if Balon Greyjoy really wanted to attack, he’d do it. Look how easily Balon set him aside, for god’s sake. Theon…Theon never meant anything to him.”

“He never said anything.”

“Would you have believed him?” Robb asked. “Or just thought he was trying to save his own skin?”

She frowned, “I suppose that’s a good point. But the situation was poor for everyone.”

“No it wasn’t. It was poor for _Theon_ ,” Robb said.

“Do you think your father wanted to kill an innocent boy?”

“I know he’d have done it anyway,” Robb replied. “And then where would we be?”

“Robb, listen to yourself!” his mother hissed.

“I can hear myself fine,” Robb said. “What makes you think I can’t?”

She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. “You shouldn’t speak of your father like that.”

“I’m not saying he was a bad man, simply that he’d have done it.”

“And you wouldn’t? If you were in his position?”

“No. Because I’d want to know why a man who hadn’t seen his home since he was nine deserved death more than the man who was attacking us.”

“I’m afraid that’s now how it works, Robb. The world…it’s cruel to those who try to hold to the most honorable path. There are those who take advantage,” she said. “Sometimes you must be cruel.”

“I’m fine with being cruel,” Robb said. “To those who deserve my cruelty.”

His mother nodded, “You’ll get your chance, then. Will you make sure the Lannisters die?”

“All of them,” Robb said. “I’ve got plans. They’ll all die. The North will kill them all.”

He smiled, remembering last night, remembering Theon swearing the same to him.

 _Winter is coming_ , his mind whispered. Coming for the Lannisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more a setup chapter for next time, where we establish a few things, namely Balon's death, Robb wondering about the direwolves, and Robb and his mother getting a little more tense with each other. Next time thins to come to a head in White Harbor as Jon and Asha's representative arrive.


	13. Chapter 13

Jon really was annoyed by how at-ease Dagmer Cleftjaw seemed despite the shackles and guards. Then again, he was here on Asha’s orders, to talk to Theon for some unfathomable reason…

And if only that reason could be made _clear_ he could write ahead to Robb so they knew what the hell they were doing. Theon couldn’t exactly negotiate anything without knowing what the hell he could and could not offer…

Well, Robb could probably tell him what the North wanted but Jon had no idea what Theon could give Asha that she’d send a raider this successful and important in order to convey her message.

Jon vaguely recalled Theon mentioning Dagmer once before, when they’d been children. Apparently the old raider was close to the Greyjoy family…was that why he’d been selected? Hoping to play on Theon’s memories of home?

They’d be in for a rude awakening if that was the case. Theon had been loudly cursing his countrymen since the day they’d attacked.

“Anyone get anything from the raider?” Rickard Karstark asked.

“No. None of his guards have heard anything,” Jon replied.

“If we can stop fighting on the coast we’ll be in a better position to sweep south.”

“I know,” Jon said. “Assuming we don’t get more trouble from the Freys…?”

“Who knows,” the Blackfish grumbled. “But if you’re sure this Theon is on our side and they want something from him…it gives us a chance.”

“He’s on our side,” Jon said. Robb’s side was their side, so Theon’s loyalty was certain. “We’ll regroup at White Harbor, see what plans Robb has managed to come up with, resupply, and re-collect the men who were resting up.”

“We’ll need to decide on an alliance,” the Greatjon noted.

“I know. Robb and Lady Catelyn are working on it.”

“Has Robb abdicated?” Rickard asked.

“I know he intended to,” Jon replied. “But that’s all.”

He knew when he got there he’d be acting on behalf of one of his half-brothers, but he didn’t know which. Hopefully that wouldn’t cause problems.

.o.o.o.

Theon gently ran his fingers though Robb’s hair.

It had been a rough night. Robb had taken ages to fall asleep at all, still trying to fathom what was going to be asked of Theon, why Asha was sending someone all of the sudden, and then also all the other plans now that moving south was imminent.

And when he had finally drifted off, the nightmares had started again. Thankfully both times when Robb had started screaming it had been after he’d woken Theon up with his thrashing and mumbling and Theon had been able to catch him and clamp a hand over his mouth. That was _not_ something he fancied having the servants tell Catelyn Stark, that her boy begged for mercy or death or other things in the middle of the night.

So frankly Theon was simply happy to have gotten what sleep he had and wasn’t going to wake Robb up from his until he absolutely had to. Robb was pushing himself to exhaustion lately and it just wasn’t healthy.

After what could have been only minutes or over an hour, Robb’s eyes fluttered open, “Theon?”

“Morning,” Theon greeted.

“…You manage any sleep?”

“Enough,” which was true. He didn’t feel overly tired or anything, just a bit drowsy, and walking about and having breakfast would likely solve that.

“Sorry about last night.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Stark. When your head’s already a mess when you go to bed you shouldn’t be surprised if you dream more.”

“I…I just…I wish I knew what they wanted. So I could help you know what to do,” Robb sighed, sitting up.

“I’ll do my best, then, and hope it’s enough,” Theon said, kissing him softly. “Come on, we should go to breakfast. You’re still too thin.”

“And what are you going to do when we’re with the army and need to ration?”

“Robb Stark, you’d put on weight even with rations, believe me,” Theon replied.

Robb chuckled softly, running his fingers along Theon’s arm. “If you say so.”

“Honestly, you’re the genius strategist. You should be able to figure this out yourself,” Theon joked.

“Ah, but you’re the genius in the care and upkeep of Robb Stark, aren’t you?”

Theon laughed, “Careful, Stark. We’ll never eat at this rate.”

“Well then I’d better shut up,” Robb teased, leaning in for a deep kiss.

Theon was careful to keep his tongue away from Robb’s teeth this time, and as a result the kiss only broke when they needed air.

“We’ll get through this,” Theon promised. “You’ll see.”

They dressed quickly, Robb tying Theon’s hair back as had become their custom.

“I’d be quite happy if you kept your hair like this, you know,” he said, running the tail through his fingers. “I like it this way.”

“Well, I like you playing with it this much so no complaints here,” Theon replied. “Shall we, my lord?”

“Gods, not in private,” Robb laughed.

“It’s too much fun not to,” Theon said, opening the door.

“So do you think they’ll be here very soon?” Robb asked as they neared the dining all.

“Probably,” Theon said. “Tonight, maybe? I really don’t know specifics but that last letter was clearly from nearby, given the landmarks Jon mentioned.”

“All right. So our first order of business is to meet with him and the rest of the lords,” Robb said. “We’ll hammer out what they’ve gleaned from whatever Ironborn that came have been acting like to try and figure out what to have you do. Then you’ll go talk with them. If you can work something out, wonderful, if it’s too much or involves something that’s a concession from us, figure a way to get out to ask us.”

“Could be a bit thorny,” Theon said. “They might not take well to my ducking out like that.”

“Well that doesn’t matter. They came to you, so you can handle them how you please, and if it involves leaving them hanging for a bit so be it.”

He hoped Robb was right about that. Battle plans were one thing, planning something diplomatic…well, neither of them had much real practice with diplomacy beyond watching Ned Stark with his bannermen, and they were all sworn to obey Ned. Getting a bunch of raiders who had no requirement whatsoever to do something for you had to be more complicated.

“I can only do my best,” he said. Only Catelyn, Rickon, and Lady Leona Manderly were at the head table.

“Sorry if we’re a bit late,” Robb apologized.

“No, no, no one’s on schedule today,” Leona said. “My father in law and his cousin are preparing the castle, my daughters are preparing for their father and uncle’s return with the army…you’ve missed nothing.”

“Where’s Bran?” Robb asked his mother.

“Sleeping in himself,” she replied. “The guard said he was up half the night.”

“How did the guard know?” Theon asked.

“Bran got bored and asked the man to come in and talk with him,” Catelyn said, shaking her head.

Robb glanced at Theon, who shrugged. He didn’t know if it was the dreams again or not. They’d quieted once Catelyn had arrived, or at least Bran had stopped mentioning them…

“Some scouts came by really early!” Rickon said. “Mother says they said Jon will be here by lunch!”

“Hence Lord Manderly going off to make sure it is the very best lunch he can offer,” Catelyn said. “Your house has been very good to us, Lady Leona.”

“The North Remembers, Lady Stark,” Leona said graciously. “And House Manderly will always remember how the Starks saved them when they were driven from the Reach.”

.o.o.o.

Jon was nearly knocked over in front of all the lords as Rickon shot out of nowhere to hug his legs. “Rickon!”

“You’re back, you’re back!” he cheered.

“Don’t worry, he does it to everyone.”

Jon turned at Theon’s voice to see him and Robb standing not too far off. The group he’d come in with had broken apart already, most going to greet Lord Manderly while Ser Wylis went to embrace his daughters and wife.

Robb looked far better than he had at Winterfell, even if he was still far too thin and his smile was a bit weary. “Good to see you, Jon.”

“You as well,” Jon replied. “So…everyone, then?”

“Well, I talked him out of doing it to Robb, but he damn near leaped onto his mother,” Theon replied. “Come on, Rickon, come on. Let Robb get a hug in, at least.”

“Where’s Bran?” Jon asked.

“Mother went to pry him from the library. I’m starting to get worried about him,” Robb said even as he embraced Jon. “It’s all he does anymore.”

“Couple that with those dreams…” Theon sighed.

“He’s still having them?” Jon asked.

They’d been odd dreams, he remembered. Theon had been confused as hell about them but Jon…he’d had similar. No crows or the like, but the wolf ones…he’d had those. Dreams where he was Ghost.

“Anyway, it’s good to have good news, and even better to see you,” Robb said.

“It’s good to see you doing so well,” Jon said.

“I’ve had help,” Robb admitted as Theon got into a play fight with Rickon while trying to wrangle the over-excited boy. “Do you know what they want from him?”

“No,” Jon said.

“Come on, the family’s having lunch together privately. We’ll dine with the bannermen at dinner,” Robb said.

The family. Right, he counted more than he used to right now, even with Robb and Bran and Rickon here he was expected to be in command of at least the soldiers.

“Catch,” Theon said, shoving Rickon over to him so he was free to loop and arm over Robb’s shoulders instead.

Prick. It was almost comforting to have his old jackassery back, even in such a subdued form. But right now Jon was more concerned with hanging onto his hyper half-brother as they walked through the halls.

He was glad to see that Robb barely leaned on Theon at all, save for the stairs. Progress was good.

The separate dining room was small, but well-lit thanks to a well-placed large window.

Lady Catelyn was sitting down next to Bran when they came in. Jon made sure to keep his greeting as deferential as he could with Rickon squirming in his arms, “My lady.”

“Jon,” she said curtly.

That was actually better than expected. He set Rickon down and the little Stark quickly claimed his mother’s other side. Robb sat across from his other and Theon across from Rickon, leaving Jon across from Bran.

“Things went well when you met with my uncle, then?” Lady Catelyn asked as her sons and Theon dug into the food, albeit a bit less enthusiastically than the other three in Robb’s case.

“He’s a very good general. Had a lot of good advice, as has Lord Karstark,” Jon said. “They’ve been a great help.”

“Good,” she said. “Do we know what the Iron Islands expect?”

Thankfully Rickon was too absorbed in his stew to care about what they were speaking of, but the rest couldn’t be said for Bran who eyed the heavy topic with interest even as Theon glanced away from all of them.

“They sent a small group,” Jon said. “They’re under guard. The one you’re to talk with, Theon, Dagmer, he-”

“Dagmer Cleftjaw?” Theon interrupted, going white and setting his fork down rather harshly.

“Yes. So…you know him, then?” Jon asked. While Lady Catelyn looked mystified Robb seemed to share Theon’s shock.

Theon itched the nape of his neck nervously, “I…he practically taught me everything I knew before I came to Winterfell. I got ignored a lot and, well, he had no sons or grandsons so he sort of stepped in as a sort of uncle…well, better than the actual uncles, anyway…”

“Theon told me once that he acted as Balon Greyjoy’s right hand rather often,” Robb added. “So there’s also that.”

Damn it. Why hadn’t he thought to tell them—right, well, he couldn’t have known Theon knew Dagmer closely, he’d rarely listened when Theon spoke of Pyke before, they’d never been close enough for Theon to want to tell him anything that personal…but he should have at least mentioned the name of the man they were bringing! He was an idiot…

“I…did not know that,” Lady Catelyn said, her voice somewhat brittle but her intention clearly to break the awkward silence. “That you…knew him, I mean.”

“It didn’t seem the sort of thing to mention. Robb was just curious about my life back at Pyke when we were younger, so it came up once or twice,” Theon muttered.

He meant it wasn’t the thing to tell a mother of a friend. To be fair, ‘oh, yes, one of the men who did the most damage and killed so many during the Greyjoy Rebellion, he was like a second father to me!’ would be a very awkward sentence even in the best circumstances. And circumstances had never been great regarding Lady Catelyn’s opinion of Theon.

“I’m sorry, I still should have written with who had come-”

“It’s fine, why would you think to?” Theon asked, shrugging.

“This does tell us a few things, then,” Lady Catelyn said. “Chief of which is that your sister deeply wants you to hear what she’s saying, or else she would have sent someone not so important and no so connected to you.”

“My mother has a point,” Robb said. “Clearly Asha sees this as being very important and for some reason truly needs something from you.”

“And we still do not know what that something is. Are you are he’s said nothing?” Theon asked Jon.

He nodded, all while wishing he could only say otherwise. “Right. He’s been quite mum on the matter.”

“Damn. We’ll fall back to the original plan, then,” Robb said.

“Which is letting Theon go in and guess?” Jon hazarded.

Robb and Theon both nodded as Lady Catelyn sighed.

“We’ll meet with the banners first, of course,” Robb said, “Hammer out some other things, maybe mention some options if we can think of things they might want. But yes.”

Theon looked quite nervous now, and Robb’s eyes were shadowed as he seemed to sink into deep thought.

Jon wished he could have helped more. But they had what they had…and he hoped it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a big Jon chapter, as I'm sure you noticed. He's kind of being too hard on himself over not getting info out of Dagmer, but then I personally think his self esteem dies whenever he's about to be in the same vicinity as Catelyn. Meanwhile Robb continues to drive himself nuts with trying to plan for everything, and the stress is starting to get to him.  
> Next time we'll have official reports from everyone and Theon chatting with Dagmer Cleftjaw to find out just what the hell is going on in his old home.


	14. Chapter 14

Theon sighed as he settled back in his chair. After lunch he, Robb, Jon, and Lady Catelyn had gone to meet with the banners and even with everyone in the room it the meeting still wasn’t started.

Robb was lucky, he was busy studying the maps. But that had bored Theon a while ago and he’d gone to counting chips in the ceiling instead.

Stunningly Jon got everyone’s attention with a loud “Enough!”

Theon was pleasantly surprised. Robb looked quite proud of his half-brother. Lady Catelyn’s eyebrows were quite high on her forehead, so Theon supposed she hadn’t seen it coming either.

“If we are going to make _any_ headway against the Lannisters or the Ironborn, we need to figure out our plan for doing so!” Jon said sharply. “So can we all please sit at the table and give our information?”

Yep. Theon was officially impressed. From when he’d been with Jon the former-Snow had been very careful with his Lord Protector status, mostly just reiterating the goals and more gently pushing the banners in line instead of outright shoving them. Maybe his experiences at the Dreadfort had pushed him into being more forceful?

“Thank you,” Jon said as the men who’d been previously ignoring him and/or bickering turned their attention to the head of the table.

“Lady Catelyn and Ser Brynden both have news from the Riverlands,” Jon said. “Since we’ll be going south through there, I think we’d better hear them out.”

Robb was outright grinning at his brother now.

“Going south at all will be a problem if Lord Frey is in the same mood,” Brynden said.

“He refused us use of the Crossing and refused our attempted bargains,” Lady Catelyn added.

“So, what exactly, did he…not let you try and pay?” Wyman asked. “Or not even hear your offers?”

“He didn’t like the offers,” Catelyn said. “The highest of which were Arya and Bran’s marriages.”

“In all fairness, we don’t have Arya,” the Blackfish noted. “But his price…not one we could make. Not without Robb’s consent.”

Theon’s blood ran cold as soon as he heard Robb’s name. The man himself frowned, “Well…you didn’t have _me_ either.”

“But the second time we tried, well, by then like you we knew you were alive and that the Northern army was marching on Winterfell,” Catelyn said. “I tried to explain that we had no word of your…condition…”

She meant whether Robb could even father an heir, Theon supposed, which he himself did not know. Not that it likely mattered, given Robb’s extreme aversion to sex. Robb seemed firm about giving his rights to Bran, anyway.

“I don’t think this needs to be about Robb,” Theon said, perhaps too coldly. It won him a small smile though, so he did not care.

“It’s not about Robb, it’s about Frey,” Jon said firmly. Perhaps hoping not to have a scene made about his brother either, or hoping Theon wouldn’t cause problems. Whichever worked.

“So we were barred from the Twins and could not cross there,” Catelyn summed up.

“So you had to go around,” Jon surmised.

“Remind me why you don’t just hang him. Or your brother doesn’t, anyway,” Theon asked Catelyn. “Isn’t he Frey’s liege lord?”

It was what Bran and Jon had pulled to get the Umbers to agree to more aid than just the supplies they initially wished to offer, claiming to not send men when asked would make them oathbreakers. And the possibility of getting called that by a bastard, even one made Lord Protector, was a humiliation of _unimaginable_ magnitude.

“We didn’t have _time_ to get into a battle with the Freys,” Catelyn said.

“We do now,” Theon noted darkly. He knew they’d have to admit he was right, they were going south anyway. The Freys were in their path. Plenty of time.

It seemed the Blackfish agreed with him, “Tolls for merchants are one thing. Not letting his lord’s men pass in an emergency is something else entirely. Treason, easily.”

“They are on the way,” Jon agreed.

“So you’re in accord?” Catelyn asked them.

Jon and Robb shared a look. Theon knew they’d been considering a few options.

“…We give them one warning. Leave the crossing open for the army or that army is going to have to attack them,” Jon said. “If they refuse to heed it, well, we tried. But we have to get south again and them being greedy is not something we need to deal with right now.”

Damn. He’d wanted one that didn’t give House Frey a chance to weasel it’s way out of trouble. Oh well, maybe he’d be lucky like he had about his father’s death…

“What about the Ironborn?” Lord Karstark asked.

“We’re going to give them what they want, that is, for Theon to speak with Dagmer Cleftjaw,” Robb said calmly. “He knows the terms the North wants, for the invasion to retreat at once, and for them to attack Lannisport.”

“They’d likely do the second anyway,” Theon said. “If they have to stay out of the North, well, might as well attack somewhere with plunder.”

“We want them gone. We’ll hammer out a new treaty later,” Jon said. “Is there anything else we think Theon needs to know before this talk?”

“What to do with their prisoners,” Maege Mormont said. “I’ve got a fair number.”

Theon nodded to her, “I will.”

When no one else seemed forthcoming, Jon stood, “Dismissed until he knows what we need. Stay in the castle, we’ll call back in session if it turns out they have some strange requests we must work around or figure out.”

“You all right?” Robb asked softly as Theon stood.

“I’m fine, my lord. Wish me luck,” Theon said.

He walked to a small meeting chamber that had been cleared for the circumstances.

Dagmer was already there.

He looked older than Theon remembered, but then it had been more than a decade since they’d seen one another. Theon had been barely more than half his current height. “Dagmer.”

“Theon,” his former honorary-uncle greeted, eyes assessing Theon just as Theon was assessing him.

“I’ve been told you have a message for me,” Theon said.

“Yes. You know that your father is dead, I wager?”

“I know Balon Greyjoy is dead,” Theon said. He was confused. Dagmer of all people had to know that he’d been disowned…yet he referred to Balon as…

“A kingsmoot has been called,” Dagmer continued. “Since Balon pressed for his daughter to inherit.”

“But…she was his heir.”

“Asha is a woman,” Dagmer said. “And the Iron Islands have never been ruled by a woman.”

“So there’s a…kingsmoot?” He knew that term, he knew he did…it was from when he was little. When Aeron had been teaching his nephews and niece of how their house first rose to glory after the conquest.

There had been a meeting. A meeting where the lords chose their ruler.

“Asha needs to convince the lords to let her rule,” Theon said. “I don’t see where I come in.”

“All prospective heirs are eligible.”

“I’m not a prospective heir, though, am I? I was cut from succession.”

“But you are of salt and iron,” Dagmer said. “You are a son of Balon and carry his blood. Legally you could challenge her and be considered to have a better claim.”

Seven hells. It was his inheritance after all. “You…you want me to not, then? Or she does?”

“She wants you to back her in the kingsmoot, cede your rights directly and give her your support. It’s fine if you do it in a letter, since I doubt you’re willing to leave here.”

Theon bit back his instinctive reply, which was “is that it?” because he had to gauge how much he could get out of this. “So she needs me to, does she?”

“It would make the transition easier,” Dagmer said. “As I said, the islands are uncomfortable with the idea of following a woman.”

Theon nodded, “I can see why, I suppose, but really she’s been off raiding and proving herself quite well. Why do you need me?”

“Your uncles are going to challenge her.”

Ah. So there was a challenge. “And she thinks she can’t win?”

“The circumstances of your father’s death were…suspicious,” Dagmer said. “She thinks one of them planned it and feels assured of victory against her for the crown.”

“And I’m her trump card,” Theon said.

“It would swing things in her favor,” Dagmer said.

“And what do you do for _me_ if I do?” Theon asked.

“She’s willing to allow you back in House Greyjoy again.”

Theon couldn’t help it, he laughed. “A _surname_? You have to know that’s not all you can do!”

“And what would you have us do?” Dagmer asked.

“I think you can guess,” Theon said.                                 

“That wouldn’t be for you, that would be for the Starks.”

“And who have I thrown my lot in with, again?”

“Wouldn’t be popular, your sister making a decision that obviously benefits the North,” Dager said.

“Don’t play games with me me, Dagmer,” Theon said coldly. “She’s never have sent you if that wasn’t an option.”

“So you’ll serve the Starks with no thought of yourself?” the old raider huffed. “Thought you had more pride than that.”

“You want me to have pride _and_ sign my rights to my sister? Make up your mind,” Theon snorted. “I’m not just going to give her that paper for nothing.”

“Oh?” Dagmer folded his arms and leaned against the window. “Then what would you have? Be specific.”

“Tell her to get the Ironborn the fuck out of the North. They can keep what they’ve run off with until now but no more, and the land…well, not that they’d keep it anyway, but none of that. In case anyone got any ideas,” Theon said. “I don’t give a fuck what they do with the West but leave the North and Riverlands be.”

“Sounds as if you’re proposing an alliance,” Dagmer noted.

“More like some cooperation. If any of you think Stannis or Renly will just leave you be any more than the Lannisters you’re bloody mad,” Theon said. “Get on the North’s good side and she might yet keep that crown.”

“You realize I can’t make her do anything.”

“ _You_ realize that I know my sister’s not a fucking idiot,” Theon said. “She knows that plan makes as much sense as anyway. You’re barely holding onto anything up here as is. Just tell the North you’ll leave and do it, and it won’t get worse for you.”

“And if there’s a betrayal, by some chance?”

“Then you and my sister better hope I never find you. Because then I’ll make sure you die as painfully and slowly as possible and bury your bodies so deep in Northern rock that even if the Drowned God himself went looking your souls would never reach his halls.”

Much to his shock Dagmer didn’t react badly to the threat and merely laughed, “That sounds like the man I’ve been hearing of, all right!”

“Do. Not. Test me,” Theon warned. “I-”

“No, I don’t intend to. The Ironmen are _sick_ of fighting in this place, especially when they gain nothing but a dead man’s vengeance,” Dagmer said. “The West is where we can profit, after all.”

“Then do us all a favor and drown the fucking lions already,” Theon muttered.

“I think that might be a valid point for Asha to make at the Kingsmoot,” Dagmer agreed.

“I’ll write the letter backing her, but it will say what I’ve told you.”

“Toss in some scorn towards your uncles as well and that should be fine.”

“Fine,” Theon said. “We’re in agreement.”

Dagmer nodded, looking out the window towards the harbor. “Theon…I know I don’t have much right to say this, only being around the first half of your life and such but…I’m somewhat proud of you.”

“What?” Theon asked. That…he’d not seen that coming. At all.

“When you were taken away, it was because Balon didn’t want a supposedly weak heir,” Dagmer said. “Within a year it was as if you’d left by choice when someone brought it up. If you had brought the Stark boys, well, I doubt he’d have stayed been pleased with you for long. You made your own way and proved you’re stronger than most thought while doing it. And you’re probably going to come out better than the rest of us because of it.”

“You’re _proud_ that I turned on my house?”

“I sincerely doubt you thought you were doing anything other than taking two boys somewhere for a friend,” Dagmer said. “Wasn’t betrayal until Balon said it was. And if you can only call it betrayal after the fact, well…are we really sure that’s what it is?”

Theon smiled, “You…you do have the right. To be proud of me. If you want. You might have only been around for half my life but…well…you practically raised me, for gods’ sakes. More a right than _he_ ever had, anyway.”

Dagmer smiled back, “Should write a letter to your mother too. She worries. Especially with the war.”

He clapped Theon on the shoulder, “Tell Lord Jon Stark we’ll be out of his hair soon as we can manage…but if by some chance Euron Greyjoy stops by, please kill him on sight.”

Theon frowned, “You’re going to need to explain that one, I’m afraid.”

.o.o.o.

“It went well?” Jon asked as the meeting reconvened.

Theon looked pleased, “If they keep to our agreement, yes. They’ll withdraw as soon as Asha’s power is secure.”

“No offense meant, but you were already disowned. Why did she need you?” the Greatjon asked.

“It’s…recall how after the Conquest, House Greyjoy was put in charge when the old rulers were all killed by the Targaryens?” Theon said. “See, my father leaving my sister as his heir has done the same because she’s a woman. There’s to be a meeting called a kingsmoot over it.”

“And what’s that?” Catelyn asked.

“A meeting that decides who rules, by whoever gets the most lords behind them,” Theon said. “Should just be my sister and my uncles trying. Maybe a random other lord or two but I doubt it. My sister’s only disadvantage is her sex.” He shot Catelyn and Maege an apologetic look. “They… _dislike_ women with power, generally. I thought she’d been proving them wrong, myself but…”

As he trailed off Jon had to agree. Asha Greyjoy had taken and held Deepwood Motte, after all.

“So where do you come in, then?” the Blackfish asked.

“Disowning…it’s a bit…weak. On the Iron Islands. I’d forgotten that, being away for so long,” Theon said. “ _Especially_ once the one who did the disowning is dead. My uncle Euron was banished and he’s almost home already to take part in the kingsmoot.”

“So she’s worried you might try, as her brother, to be the heir,” Catelyn surmised.

“Right, and given that I’ve recently acquired a reputation as a good warrior…it’s a threat to her,” Theon said. “That’s why she offered a pull-out if she wins. Because if I cede to her, she’s all-but assured to win instead.”

“What if she still doesn’t?” the Blackfish asked.

“If Victarion wins then we’re fine since I think Asha and Dagmer can still aim him at the West,” Theon said. “Aeron…he’s not going to win and if he does he’s not the threat any of the others would be. He’s a priest, not a tactician. But Euron…Dagmer said he’d recommend killing him on sight. Even if he doesn’t win.”

“That’s seems a bit extreme to say about a future ruler,” Catelyn noted.

“He was banished when I was young,” Theon said. “He raped his brother’s wife since he knew it meant she’d be killed under the Iron law.”

The shock was obvious on everyone’s faces. Jon felt personally sick. He knew Theon came a strange and brutal house but…gods. And he just said it so casually… _gods_.

“So, really, should she somehow _not_ win with him as the main competition…well, likely she’d ally with us anyway since it would give her an excuse to oppose him and end with him killed and her in control. Again,” Theon said.

“But you had to cede your rights?” Catelyn asked.

“And only go back if my sister, mother, or Uncle Rodrik ask of me, and _then_ only to Harlaw. I’m not allowed on the same island as the Seastone Chair,” Theon chuckled. “You know, precautions.”

That was tantamount to banishment, which was admittedly still better than being disowned altogether. And Theon seemed to merely find it funny. No wonder some among the troops thought he was a bit mad.

“Thank you. For being willing to do that,” Jon said. “Most wouldn’t.”

Theon just shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Then you’ve gotten us all we wanted.”

Everyone turned to look at Robb, but his gaze stayed on Theon. “Thank you.”

“It was no trouble, my lord. I had to write a letter,” Theon said. He shrugged. “No trouble.”

Jon fought the urge to shake his head. Nothing, when all Theon had spoken of before this mess was going home and claiming his rights as heir.

How things had changed.

.o.o.o.

As soon as Theon shut their door Robb stepped close and kissed him, cupping his face as Theon’s arms wound around his hips.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Robb said again.

Theon smiled, one hand sliding up along his spine and into his hair. “It’s nothing. I’d do it again.”

“I…I want to…to do something. For you. Since you’ve done so much over me. I…I don’t think fucking’s a good idea but…maybe something else?”

“Are you sure?” Theon asked.

Robb nodded.

Theon gently traced the outside of Robb’s left ear. “Can…can I see you?”

“What?” Robb asked.

“See you? All of you?” Theon asked.

Robb fought the urge to swallow nervously. He’d kept Theon from touching him in certain places and washed those places himself, not letting Theon look, even after all this time and…

And gods this was someone who’d given up his right to go home for Robb _again_ and could he really refuse him?

“All right,” Robb agreed. “I just…it’s not pretty down there.”

Theon’s eyes were wide now, “I…then were you…?”

“What? Oh, no, not gelded, got very close sometimes but no,” Robb said quickly. “I just…it…things like that don’t really…interest me. Or my cock, more accurately, _I_ get very interested, you know, at how much you want me but…it just doesn’t seem to…work. But there…there’s a lot of scars. Is all.”

Theon nodded, “Can…can I see them?”

“Yes. Help me with my boots, would you?”

Theon knelt down and carefully slid the boots off when Robb picked his feet up one at a time. Theon slowly slid the stocking off too. “These look like they’re finally healing over, at least.”

“That’s good,” Robb said. Not bleeding in his boots when he stumbled or walked too quickly for a few steps would be nice.

As he reached for his trousers Theon caught his hands. “Let’s go to the bed.”

Robb let Theon guide him over and sit him down, watching warily as his lover settled down beside him.

“It’s all right,” Theon murmured, kissing him as he helped him out of his shirt. “I may be a kraken once more, precious, but I won’t ravage you.”

Part of Robb wished deep down that he would, that he would and somehow it would erase Robb’s fears instead of bringing them out but…no. No, Robb knew it would not go well.

Leaning on Theon in order to lift his hips, he pulled his trousers and lower smallcothes off in one go, shutting his eyes.

For a moment there was silence and then, softly, “Oh _Robb_.”

Robb looked at him. Theon’s eyes were impossibly soft and one hand was hovering in the air like he wanted to- “You…you can touch. If you want.”

Theon nodded, eye flicking up from Robb’s thighs to look him in the eye. His gaze drifted down again and so did his hand.

Robb tensed the second his fingers hit that scarred skin.

“I can stop,” Theon said.

“No. No, I…I need this too and…and I _want_ you to see.”

“Okay.” Theon pulled back anyway, only to hook an arm around Robb’s torso and drag him back to lie against the pillows. “Let me see, then.”

This was more open than sitting with his legs pressed together and Robb could feel the nerves stuttering through his body as Theon’s eyes flitted over the scars as his fingers ran across his skin. The bite marks on his hips and inner thighs, the knife marks, the nail marks…gods even his stones had scars, there was even one or two on his cock and Theon, _gods_ , Robb couldn’t read his reaction at all, why couldn’t he just _say something_?

But Theon didn’t and his hand reached out, gently fondling Robb’s limp cock before running down the inside of his thigh. His face was so unreadable and, and…

Robb shut his eyes to fight back tears. He’d wanted this to be something _good_ but…but…

“Robb.” Theon’s voice was so raw as his other hand reached out and cupped Robb’s cheek. “Why…why didn’t you tell me…?”

Robb felt a bitter smile form even as he kept his eyes shut, “I…I was afraid…”

“Robb, please look at me.”

Robb opened his eyes, some of the tears escaping, but…

Theon was crying too, but he managed a watery smile when his eyes met Robb’s. He wiped some tears away with his thumb. “My poor little wolf…you didn’t have to be afraid.”

“I know. I know, it’s just…I couldn’t help it…I…I used to be…not _this_.”

“I know that,” Theon said softly. “I know, Robb. I just want you to try to be okay, all right?”

Robb nodded and the hand on his thigh started to move again. It was slow and gentle and that since it hadn’t been slow and gentle with _them_ or even with Theon before all this.

Robb kept his eyes on Theon, as long as he could see it was Theon doing this he’d be all right. Theon had both hands on him now, digits dancing slowly across every scar and mark. He didn’t trace the insides too high, though, and instead reached right for his groin.

Robb hissed.

“Does that hurt?”

“N-no. Just…feels odd,” Robb murmured. “I…I just can’t remember it feeling good when someone touched there but…but it’s not bad.”

“I wish I knew what would make you feel good,” Theon said.

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you,” Robb protested.

“All right,” Theon said, pulling back. “So you think I’m not getting anything from this?”

Robb frowned as Theon started to take his own clothes off—though he had to fight to keep frowning at the expanse of skin and muscle bared when Theon got his shirts and tunic off—only to understand as Theon took off his trousers.

Theon was very, very hard.

“I feel kind of guilty since you’re obviously…not happy about me seeing you but…gods, you let me see you,” Theon admitted, shrugging.

“I…I can’t, Theon, I wish I could but-”

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Theon said firmly. “J-just try touching yourself, all right? I…I’m going to handle _this_ and I…I’m going to talk. And I want you to listen.”

Robb didn’t know what good touching himself would do. “Okay.”

Theon slid over to the chamber pot and started to touch himself. He smiled at Robb over his shoulder. “I…I loved the first time we did it. When you came by my door.”

Robb nodded slowly. He remembered that. Mostly. Well he was pretty sure he had it straight up until the sex, anyway.

“You were such a sweet little thing, remember? All of fifteen and so fucking innocent. Gods, I didn’t even want to touch you at first, remember?”

Robb nodded, recalling Theon being so jittery and almost scared of what Robb was asking of him.

“And then you decided to be a brat and pin me down and make me listen,” Theon said, his breath hitching as he got close.

Robb remembered wrestling the then-nineteen year old to the floor and him sitting on Theon’s stomach, holding him down so he could make his case that he’d _known_ Theon wanted him too. “Mm…hm…”

“And…and well…you were quite good at getting your way, weren’t you?” Theon laughed. “Gods, I’d never had someone so _bossy_ in my bed, Stark. You knew what you wanted, didn’t you? You want me to push you down into those sheets-”

“Yes.” Robb could almost see it in his mind, Theon’s eyes widening when Robb had taken his clothes off, when Robb had pulled Theon on top of him, kissing him so possessively, the way Robb had begged, begged for real because he wanted it, not because someone would hurt him if he didn’t…

“And…and _gods_ I had no idea what I was in for, you greedy little thing. You wanted it all that night, didn’t you? I’d never met someone so damn _eager_ to get me hard again just to suck me off and…ahh…”

Robb watched Theon slump against the wall as he finally came. “Theon. Come here.”

It took Theon a moment to do as asked this time, as he needed to regain his bearings. Finally he staggered over to the bed, sitting beside Robb, “Did that help?”

“I know it doesn’t look it but… _yes_ ,” Robb breathed. It was true, his cock hadn’t really reacted, but he’d still felt hot all over and wonderfully…something he couldn’t quite put into thought, really.

Theon hauled Robb into his lap and Robb shuddered at the skin-to-skin contact. “That’s fine, Robb. It’s fine.”

“You…you have no idea how that made me feel,” Robb insisted.

“Stark, I don’t even have words for how fucking amazing that felt for me, just being allowed to really touch you again, so don’t you start,” Theon muttered, rest his head on Robb’s shoulder.

Robb turned his head to softly kiss Theon’s hair.

“If you…if you have to…you know, tend yourself…let me know,” Robb said.

“Want to watch, Stark?” Theon asked.

Robb nodded, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long one and there's lots of things happening now. We have finally answered the question a few people were asking about whether or not Robb had been castrated, Theon gets some closure regarding his house, Robb gets more closure over his situation, Jon acts like a leader, and next time we'll be marching south!


	15. Chapter 15

When Robb woke up, he panicked because he was naked and there was someone else who was naked nearly lying on top of him and-

“Robb, Robb, calm down!”

Robb gasped as he came back to himself and realized Theon was pinning him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Theon said gently. “It’s all right. I…I can guess.”

Robb shakily put a hand on Theon’s cheek, hating how his maimed skin and scarred and missing fingers looked on his Greyjoy’s handsome face.

But Theon didn’t seem to notice, covering Robb’s hand with his own and smiling, “Easy, Stark. I’ve got you.”

“I know you do.”

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Theon said. “Ready to go to war, Robb?”

“You’re going to war. I’m just following you,” Robb said.

“I’ve seen some of your plans. You’ll be doing more than just following along, Stark,” Theon said, easing himself down onto the bed beside Robb.

“Plans. It’s not like I’ll be the one carrying them out. Who’s to trust them then?”

“Me, for one. Jon for another,” Theon said. “The Manderly brothers. I’ve seen Marlon talking with his cousin’s sons about how long you spent in the map room. And maybe others.”

“I’m glad you have such faith in me,” Robb said. “How long, do you wager?”

“A few days, no more,” Theon replied. “Probably just long enough to stock up on supplies.”

Robb combed his fingers through Theon’s hair. “Don’t…don’t die on me, all right? In battle?”

“I’ll do my best, my lord,” Theon said.

Robb smiled. Theon clearly didn’t want to make a promise he might not be able to keep. “I can live with that.”

“Good,” Theon said, slowly running his hands down Robb’s sides.

Robb shuddered at the sensation, especially as Theon’s fingers trailed back over his ribs one by one.

“So he likes to watch and he likes this,” Theon mused. “Interesting…”

Robb laughed at the leering look, “Someone’s getting ideas.”

“Is it bad to think of ways to make my lord happy?” Theon teased, pulling Robb up and into his lap.

“No. That’s good,” Robb said, curling against his protector. “That’s perfect.” And he had the perfect plan to keep things this way.

.o.o.o.

There were tears as Catelyn, Bran, and Rickon said their goodbyes. There was Jon swearing he’d keep Robb safe and get back Sansa and Arya. There was Robb hugging his brothers and mother so tightly that he was rubbing his arms afterwards.

But Theon had his own goodbye to say.

“Farewell. In case this is the last time we see each other.”

“Likely, if you keep to your sister’s terms,” Dagmer said. He and his men would be taken under guard back to Deepwood Motte to meet Asha and then go to the Iron Islands.

“Likely,” Theon said. “If…if she doesn’t believe the letter, tell my mother I’m all right?”

“Who’s to say she’ll believe me?” Dagmer asked.

“Good point,” Theon admitted.                                         

“Don’t look so morose, boy. After all…we might see each other in King’s Landing, if Tywin was fool enough to think moving his gold would stop the Ironborn,” Dagmer said.

“Dagmer, I’d give my surname again just to watch you beat his smug face in,” Theon laughed.

“We’ll see how things go for us, then,” Dagmer said, swinging up onto his horse. “But if we don’t meet again, farewell, Theon Greyjoy.”

“That looked as if it went well,” Robb said as the Ironborn and their guards rode off.

“It did. You know, he was more a father to me than mine was. Like your father, really, only…well, a raider instead of a lord.”

“I suppose.”

“Your mother and brother will leave for Winterfell when the Ironborn withdraw, right?”

“Correct,” Robb said. “Of course, there’s something we have left to do before we leave.”

“There is?” Theon asked, running things through his head in an attempt to figure out what it was. They’d packed up their room, had their supplies…

Robb took Theon’s hand, “We thought it best to do this after Dagmer and the rest left. And we’ll keep it quiet until we know if your sister’s won or not. But…you’ve done far too much for House Stark to go unrewarded.”

“Oh?” Theon asked, though he could guess where this was headed.

“And…and we don’t really have time to grant you lands or anything but-”

“I don’t need lands. And thank you,” Theon said. “I’ll be your knight, my lord.”

Robb smiled. “Good.”

Theon vaguely realized the other bannermen were about and Jon was right in front of him.

“Kneel,” Robb murmured, leaving Theon’s side to stand in front of him with Jon.

Theon dropped to one knee.

Robb was still smiling as Jon spoke, “Theon Greyjoy, for services rendered to House Stark including aiding the recovery of my brother, Robb Stark, the protection of our younger brothers, Bran and Rickon Stark, and your personal sacrifice in order to stabilize our relations with the Iron Islands, we offer you a position as a knight of House Stark.”

We?

Jon drew his sword and offered it to Robb. He didn’t let it go fully, though, helping Robb hold the blade steady.

“Kneel,” Robb said and Theon dropped to one knee at once.

The sword tapped his shoulder.

“Rise, Ser Theon,” Robb said, offering a hand. He didn’t pull Theon up, not that he likely could without serious effort, but Theon felt it was nice to take his hand as he stood.

“Your job when not on the field of battle is to defend my brother and keep him safe. Can you do the duty you have been charged with?” Jon asked.

It took all Theon had not to grin too widely or laugh at such an obvious question, but then this was really all for show anyway. “Of course, my lord.”

“Good. Everyone, we ride within the hour, finish your preparations,” Jon said before walking off.

Theon and Robb soon found themselves alone and Theon just couldn’t help himself any longer. “Was this all to explain my presence in your tent, my lord?”

Robb laughed, and Theon couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for bringing it forth. “That could be one way to look at it, my knight. But in all seriousness, we’re _alone_ Theon. My _name_.”

Theo grinned, “Of course my lord.”

It worked, and Robb only laughed all the harder, eventually grabbing Theon’s shoulder just to keep himself upright.

Theon hoped he survived this war. If only to keep Robb smiling.

.o.o.o.

They’d been marching south for nearly a week when they got the raven.

Jon had let Robb read it first, only to watch him grit his teeth and snarl. Theon, reading it over his shoulder, spat out something that sounded like “fucking Freys” so Jon knew generally what to expect when he finally got the letter.

The Freys had declared for the Lannisters and Riverrun was under siege from both sides. The whole of the Riverlands were dividing up as Frey or Tully.

“So we’re taking the Twins, then,” Lord Karstark said as Jon told the banners of the letter.

“Yes. They’re blocking our path and we need to aid Lord Tully. He’s our ally,” Jon said.

“We don’t really have time for a siege,” Lady Mormont pointed out.

“We don’t need to,” Robb said. “The Freys sent troops south to meet with the Lannisters, Edmure says so in the letter, there’s Frey flags there. So they’re not at full numbers for defending themselves.”

“But why?” the Greatjon wondered aloud. “Why reduce their forces?”

“Could be any number of things,” Robb said. “Overconfidence in the Twins’ defenses. Expectations of Lannisters supporting them. Thinking we all would go North to secure Winterfell first.”

“Do you think the Lannisters would press north?” Jon asked.

“I think they would go all the way to the neck, consolidate control of the Riverlands to cut us off,” Robb mused. “Tywin might not be foolish enough to try and get past House Reed, but if we lose our path south we lose our chance to get Sansa and Arya back and he wins by default.”

“But if we put House Frey in enough trouble that plan can’t work and he’ll have to worry about a third army to fight,” Jon agreed, seeing where Robb was going.

“First thing’s first then,” Theon said. “We take the Twins.”

That was not so easy a task as Theon and Karstark made it sound, however. The river gave them only one side they could attack and meant that once taking it their enemies could simply begin besieging them from the other bank.

“We’ll need hostages,” Karstark said. “To pull the Frey men from the fight. If we’re lucky we’ll grab an important Lannister too…”

“This is the problem,” Robb said, circling an area on the map. “From here to the gates is open ground. Anyone there is easy prey for crossbowmen. We could try only sending people in full armor, but once they get close the bolts can still piece even that…”

“We could go at night, not carry torches,” Theon said. “I’ll admit, it carries the risk of some falling in the river, but once we’re at the doors we’re too close to shoot.”

“But then they can drop things on us,” Jon said. “But…assuming we could handle that. We’d need axes for the door.”

“And shields for whatever’s behind it,” Mormont added.

“Perhaps we’ll be lucky and they’ll be foolish enough to send a force against us before we reach them,” Theon mused, his grin taking hard edge. Jon assumed he was really looking forward to killing someone right now.

“So the area Robb’s circled is the most dangerous. We only want to put ourselves there if we’re charging the doors,” Jon surmised. “We could try to use the woods to make some sort of fortifications, but frankly we’re going to lose a lot of men there even if we attack at night.”

“We could sneak some men across the river,” Karstark said. “Too far east or west for them to attack easily. We’d need the time to make rafts, of course, and make sure no enemy party awaited us on the other bank, but then they could sneak in from behind.”

“They’d be in a lot of danger but it’s a good idea,” Robb agreed. “You’d need people skilled in sneak attacks, in moving quickly. But if they could get in the other side…”

“Then they could do something like kidnap Lord Walder from his bed,” Theon agreed. “Causing enough confusion to give the main army more time to break in.”

“All right,” Jon said. “They’ll need a commander. Who here knows how to break into a castle and also how to make rafts?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd end things on a light note. Yep, as hinted the Freys went Lannister in this universe. So the only way to reach the Lannisters is to go through them, which we'll see next chapter.  
> We get so see some of Robb's planning in action, as well as some of Lord Karstark's. After the Blackfish he always seemed one of the most "old soldier"-ish of the men Robb had around him, so I decided to give him a chance to shine since his sons aren't dead and that's not clouding his judgement.  
> And yay! Theon is now Ser Theon! That's been one thing I've been planning on since the start of this, sort of this universe's take on the classic AU idea of Theon as Robb's kingsguard. To be fair, Tywin's dad knighted the Clegane's predecessor for having dogs that saved him from a mountain lion. It would just be rude to NOT knight Theon after all he's been through.


End file.
